Hello Pals, thanks for sticking around even though I've not been updating as frequently. Life is busier. I keep to a tight reading schedule oh and I've been playing around with some other stories in between, as I got a bit stuck with where to take this one, so bear with me. Sageandrews I hope this chapter will be satisfactory, thank you for the constructive criticism, I think I needed the push :)

Anyway, be warned it gets a bit graphic. Now would be the time to make an escape…

Meliorn and his cronies take us to the portal. But we're not going to any that are on the Clave's radar. I know it as soon as we take the side roads. I'm worried. They're smuggling us the illegal way of course. Considering that I notified Izzy, I'm confused why they're being so inconspicuous. This all feels awfully wrong. I keep trying to catch Jon's gaze, but he's avoiding me. I was so close to telling him about my feelings, so close, and it bloody terrified me. I dread to think how he would have responded. We finally get to an abandoned building and that's when everyone stops. I look around and see one of the fairies approaching a thick plastic sheet and moving it to the side. Underneath are wooden boxes and steel rods, which also get moved, exposing a temporary portal. How secret indeed. The portal's shimmer is fuzzier, it's a sign that it's only temporary, so no one will be able to trace us. I'm scared. It's known that some never return from the Seelie Court. There's too many dangers and it's the unknown that frightens me. Suddenly I feel a warm touch on my hand. Jon has taken my hand. His hip pushes into me as he leans closer and with his low voice reassures me that everything will be alright. I want to believe him but a feeling of unease takes root within me and I can't shake it. Something about this whole thing smells. Why me and Jonathan?! What is the Queen playing at?!

Jon keeps hold of my hand as we step through into another world. He makes me feel safer all things considered. He doesn't let go as we step through the portal. When we finally touch the ground again, a deep pine smell hits me and it reminds me of Jon and instantly gives me the illusion of home. Illusion is a fairy trick. I know it. I try to pull free. I want to follow the scent that assaults my whole being. "Stay close." Jon squeezes my hand as he says it, his grip intensifies. God how I wish he would always hold me this way, locked into him forever. We set off on our journey through the luscious fairyland and the further we go the more beautiful it gets. On a few occasions I longed to go and explore the beautiful sights and scents in more detail, but every time my steps slowed, Jon pulled me hard to keep going. Eventually I gave up straining from the path.

When we finally reach the Seelie Court my breath halts, both from exhaustion and wonder. The palace resembles a sparkling green emerald surrounded by lush green trees. As we get closer, I realise that it's constructed out of mirroring glass that reflects the surrounding forest. We enter through a large archway and I feel Jon pulling me even closer into him. I look up and his face has gone all statuesque and calm. He looks self assured and strong and I feel safe next to him yet the closer we get to the Queen, the more I freak out regardless.

We follow a large corridor and I feel eyes following our every move but whenever I look up, only shadows show themselves. We enter a large hall where in the center, the Queen sits on her throne and beside her stand three young men dressed in armor. The whole scene has a medieval feel to it. It all looks staged and fake and I don't like it. Her guard surrounds us. Wherever I look, I find soldiers. She's not underestimating us. Good.

As Jon pulls me towards the Queen, all I want is to run away as far as possible, but I cannot. As we approach the Queen, I realise that she's young. Much younger than I thought. Possibly my age. She's beautiful, too. Long chestnut hair adorned in rose coloured petals and leaves. Large blue eyes, framed by thick lashes. A delicate mouth and high cheekbones. She's wearing a dress that resembles leaves yet when she moves, the dress clings to her like silk. I'm enamored by her beauty. Suddenly I feel a slight tug and I realise that Jon has been trying to get me to kneel. I don't. I refuse to. Jon instead, is on one knee, his head deeply bowed. I stare at him in confusion. He looks so beautiful. Yet I've never seen him show any kind of subordination and it throws me. I freeze. "Kneel for the Queen of Fey." I hear a man shout behind me, but I can't move. I can't do it. I don't know why, but my body or mind refuses to yield.

"Clary!" Jon hisses at me almost desperately. "Please just do it!" I shake my head. I can't. I won't. There's a sound behind me but before I can react, Jon throws himself at whoever was about to strike me. I hear a growl and a smash and when I turn, I see my brother holding my attacker by the throat. Suddenly we're surrounded and a hundred spears are pointing at us. I look around me. But there's no escape.

"Weapons down!" The Seelie Queen says it calmly as she descends her throne and everyone listens and parts, as to form a pathway for their beautiful Fey Queen. She almost glides towards us, her steps are so light. She walks past me, not sparing me a glance and I watch as she touches my brother greedily with her long delicate hand and something within me rages. How dare she touch him like this?! "That includes you, Jonathan Morgenstern." Her voice rings out his name like a melody and I want to scream that he's a Fairchild. Jonathan to my surprise let's the man go, his breathing haggard as he visibly pulls his anger back into himself. "You're so handsome, Jonathan. Let me look at you." She turns him towards her and I watch as the Queen of Fey lays her beautiful hands on my brother's handsome face and visibly sighs. "Such a warrior!" Anger like nothing else rages within me at the way she touches him, looks at him. The Queen gazes at him with adoration. "I've heard such interesting things about you, but none were able to describe how scrumptious you really are." With that her hands slowly slide down Jon's chest and she leans her face towards him and I can't believe what I'm witnessing. She's pressed her lips against my brother's and at first he stands still and I'm sure he will push her away, but then his hands reach around her and he leans in and kisses the Queen of the Seelie court. They look so beautiful together. First my rage is like a growing fire that gets closer to being out of control the longer I see the two embracing, but quickly it's followed by a sharp stinging pain. The pain is so acute, I can't breathe, I'm seeing white. "Jon!" Nothing. They keep kissing. "Jon!" I scream.

They both look up at me. Some of the audience are cheering the steamy kiss. Not me. I'm staring at Jonathan in absolute anger. How DARE He! I cannot believe he would betray me like this. Me? Amanda? I can feel electricity pulsing through my fingertips. "Oh? Is this your little sister?" The Queen says it patronisingly cutesy, as if I'm an actual CHILD! "Yes, I'm his sister!"

"You sound awfully possessive for such a little girl." I'm seething. "Clary!" My brother hisses. I look at him and he looks furious. I haven't done anything.

The Queen suddenly claps her hands. "Right, please escort our guests to their quarters." She then finally turns towards me and back to Jonathan. "Go get pretty and then we party." She pouts her lips and I want to slap the pout off her face. I watch as the Queen leans in and places a wet kiss on my brother's cheek and he, instead of pulling away, gives hair waist a squeeze. I can't bear it. As the guards show us the way, I storm after them. We walk down one long corridor after another, as if they are trying to confuse us on purpose. Behind me, my brother walks steadily behind me. He's in no rush. I want to scream at him for that, too.

Finally, we get taken to a door. Through it, I find myself in a large living room. Someone shows us all the amenities, my brother's room and mine. Eventually they leave us. The second the door closes, I'm in front of him. "What was that?" I slap his chest, as I scream over and over again. "What was that?" On my fifth slap, Jonathan grabs my arm and pulls me roughly, just so my back is pressed against the wall and he is against me. His hand covers my mouth. I want to wriggle and scream, but then I hear the steps that stop right outside our door. My brother leans into me so closely, his mouth covering my ear. "Clary! Calm down. If I let you go, will you behave? I need you to behave, alright?" I nod in submission and he lets me go. "What is going on, Jon?" He takes my hand into his. Points to me to be quiet. He pulls me next door. I watch as he walks in circles, rubbing his hair back and forth, making it stand up in every direction. "Jon, you're scaring me!"

He's in front of me now. His big hands, covering my face. His eyes, dark and serious. I want to lean into him so badly, but I cannot. "You have to trust me, Lily." He implores me. His words are powerful. "Lily, do you trust me?"

"You're the only one I trust", I say. I mean it, too.

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yes. I'm going to get you out of here. If it means debasing myself. I'll do it. Anything to keep you safe. You are all that matters to me." All the words come out in a rush and suddenly I'm in his arms and he's holding me so tight. His body against mine. His face in the nook of my shoulder. Lily, I think I hear him whisper. Suddenly it's cold and he's out the door, just as a maid enters, holding up a golden dress.

An hour later I'm scrubbed clean and sparkling in gold fairy dust. My hair is adorned with flowers and petals and the girl has forced me into a dress two sizes too small. My back is bare. The dress barely covers my ass. I feel too exposed. I look down my arms and see the haggard skin. My scars that haven't fully healed yet, all exposed. As if on purpose. I beg for a shawl, but she refuses me over and over again. "This is a handpicked dress by our Queen and you will wear it with honour." I want to scream in frustration. Suddenly, there's a knock and a handsome Fey Man stands in front of me. "Tao." He says. "I'm to be your escort tonight."

"My brother?" I ask.

"The Queen's," he smiles and my insides feel like they're being scraped by glass. I picture them kissing again and chastise myself that it is all a ruse, all a plan for Jonathan to free us.

Tao takes my hand and starts leading the way. I recognise him as one of the three guards the Queen had by her side. He keeps stealing glances at me. "You're very beautiful," he finally utters. "For a Shadowhunter that is." I laugh and he gives me a bewildered look. Our fashion suits you.

"Does it? I didn't realise."

"Please tell me, you've at least seen your reflection!" I shake my head in disagreement. Abruptly, he turns to me and I reflectively look at the floor. His hand guides my chin toward the wall. I see myself. But it is not me. I see myself beautiful and glowing. Is this another illusion? Tao leans into me, whispers that I'm a goddess, made for fairy fashion. We hear footsteps, we break apart and he continues to pull me down the maze. Finally, we arrive at what I recognize to be the hall.

Loud chatter greets us with a background of beautiful violin music. Tao almost proudly takes me into the hall. It's another beautiful vision. I look around me in utter amazement. The flower arrangements, the delicate butterflies that seem to cover so many spaces on the wall, the art displayed on every large space. The Queen has taste. I give her that. It's then that I realise the hall has gone quiet. They are all looking at us. At me? I search the table for my brother and spot him next to the Queen. His body leaned into her, but his attention, utterly fixed on me. His eyes pitch black. They slide over me slowly, from top to bottom. A shiver runs through me, all the way to my toes. The Queen, next to him, looks angry, pulls his sleeve, demands his attention and he gives it to her unwillingly, it seems. I try not to be angry. My attention goes back to my escort and he takes me to the other side of where the Queen is sitting. I end up being placed opposite my brother, whose attention is solely the Queen's now. I breathe. I clear my mind. I trust him. He'll get us out of this. The food arrives and Tao pours me delicious looking red wine, which I taste greedily. It's perfect. My glass empties, and he keeps refilling it.

Every next glass makes me giddier and giddier and my feet are itching to dance. I move them slightly to the music and suddenly knock into something. I want to say sorry, but the leg twirls itself around my bare calf. Electricity courses through me. The leg brushes mine. I look up and see my brother staring at me. I'm trapped in his gaze. The Queen is stroking his shoulder. Jon is brushing the inside of my leg with his as if nothing is happening, and Tao keeps pouring me more wine and something within me unspools. Running up and down my spine. He has to stop doing that or a moan will escape me. I cannot take his ministrations any longer. Has he confused my leg for the Queen's?! What the Angel is happening. I'm burning. I have to get rid of the rising arousal within me, I'm about to burst. I jump up excitedly and the table goes quiet. Tao fills my glass and I see him filling Jonathan's too, whose eyes are solely on me. He has to look at the Queen! Not me. This wasn't the plan. At least his leg has disappeared from mine.

I , on the other hand, am moving to the centre of the dance floor. I find myself curtsying deeply towards the Queen. I have lost my sense. "A dance for the most beautiful Queen of the Fey who so graciously has invited us to celebrate her birthday here with all of you." My voice rings through the hall and then I am dancing. It's a dance I have only ever dreamed of, but never performed. Never even dreamed of moving like this on my own. I'm seductive and sexy. I'm like a water snake, twirling and bending and jumping. The music is in my veins and I float across the floor like it's air. Every pair of eyes on me. My brother's undressing me out of the skimpy outfit I'm wearing. From the corner of my eyes, I see Tao again, filling up the wine and my brother drinking and watching me and clenching his fists as if releasing a pressure. Eventually, the dance stops and I'm breathless.

Everyone is on the dance floor now, floating to the music. I want to leave, but then something hard is pressed against my back and I'm enveloped in pines and chocolate. He twirls me. We waltz across the floor. He holds me so close, I feel him everywhere. He keeps moving closer still and my whole being is so in tune with every of his moves, we're one body, one mass. All the while his hip is pressed against mine, his legs against mine, his palm slowly caresses my bare back up and down and I swear I hear a groan escape his lips. All the while, we dance and his eyes are on mine. Two dark pools that I could get lost in forever. The music stops and once again I'm breathless, only this time it's from the utter longing I feel. The room has gone still. You could drop a needle and it would be heard like an explosion. I'm still enveloped in my brother's limbs. Too close. Far too close for what's acceptable for siblings. The Fey are staring. I make myself go. Leave. But I can't leave straight away. I return to the table, where Tao hands me another glass of wine. I gobble it all down at once. In my head I count to ten minutes, that's how determined I am to keep up this ruse. I don't look for him. I'm too scared that if I do, he will know what I feel for him. Ten minutes on the dot. I feign tiredness. Tao asks if he can escort me back, but I assure him that it's fine. That I've memorised the way. "Shadowhunter." I smile.

Steadily, I make my way back. I'm too scared to run. In every corner, there's a couple of fairies, sometimes more. I'm surrounded by sex, yet to me, it's like this forbidden fruit that I can never have. When I'm finally in the room, I desperately try to get out of the dress, but it is too tight. I feel trapped. I yank and yank delicately, trying so hard not to rip the beautiful silk. Then, his hands are on my arms. I didn't even hear him come in. "Let me." He says in a husky deep voice. His hand carefully glides down my back, and wherever he touches me now, little fires ignite on the way. I have to swallow a moan. Instead the fires spread and slowly travel lower and lower until they surround my bud, teasing it into insanity as if to say 'See what you're missing out on." I want to scream in frustration. His hand stills on my ass and finally I hear the zip being pulled down and the dress falls away around me. That's when I finally realise that all I'm wearing is a thong.

I look around me in the darkness, trying to find something to cover myself with. This is just way too embarrassing. That's when I remember that my brother sees perfectly in the darkness. He can see me. Almost all of me. Does he like what he's seeing? I don't say anything. He remains quiet behind me. I don't know what to do. I want to be brave. I want to scream that I want him. HIM. But I'm a chicken. I'm a hyperventilating chicken. Finally, I have enough of these feelings- this situation! I need to get away, but my room is behind where he stands, so I have to turn to get past him. Only, when I move, I knock into Jon's front. He was inches away from me and I didn't even sense him this close. I realise now that he's breathing hard. The wind blows through the open window, moving the curtains slightly, illuminating his form. He's shaking. His hands are vibrating. "Jon?" I move towards him, putting my hand above his fast beating heart 'tap. tap tap tap. Tap tap tap tap.' It's beating so fast it may explode. I'm standing so close, my chest presses against him and something long and hard pushes itself into my abdomen. His erection. At the feel of his erection against me, wetness pools in my panties. "Clary." Loud breathing fills the room. His and mine. "I- I can smell you," he croaks and his voice sounds pained. It's the push I need though. I step on tip toes and slowly my lips move towards him. His breathing becomes faster and faster the closer I get. Then, he's feet away from me. I step towards him again. "Do not come any closer!" He chokes out.

"Why?" My voice is a whisper.

He looks at me in disbelief. "Why?" He laughs. "Fuck. Clary." His hands move desperately up and down his face and I carefully move closer regardless. My arms are held out as if to appease a scared animal. He looks at me terrified. I should stop. "Put some clothes on! Will you!." But I can't - I can't think. I don't know what's going to happen but I need to be near him. With every step I take towards him, he takes one away from me, matching me step for step until he reaches the wall and there's nowhere else for him to go. My gaze meets his pitch black eyes. His eyes, the way he looks at me, it undoes me. An ache travels deep through me.

"Why do you smell like that?" He asks me in a wondrous kind of way. I lean into him and his erection is against my abdomen once more. He wants me. Carefully I move my hand towards his face, leaning in closer and closer, my body pressing into him. Acute pleasure. I'm like a magnet being pulled to one destination. My lips open slowly, land on his and a shiver runs from my body to his. Not one of us moves. I lick his lip slightly. Nibble it. He's still like a statue, unmoving. But he hasn't moved away. My hand moves to his chest. I lick his lips again and still he doesn't move.

Carefully my tongue glides in between his lips, begging them to open up for me. Slowly and hesitantly he does. My tongue slides into his mouth. Finally. My whole body sighs in response and then and all sense leaves me the moment our tongues collide. It's like a volcano implodes. He groans into my mouth. I moan into him. We're crazed. Possessively he sweeps his tongue in and out of my mouth, tasting and licking every corner of it. But still, I want more. So much more. My hand carefully slides down his chest, down his abdomen and ever so closer to his dick. I'm about to touch its length, when his hand grabs mine roughly and pushes it away. "No!" He snarls angrily. "You cannot touch me!" He almost cries. "It's not right." He adds. I want to cover his mouth with my hands, stop him from saying how wrong we are for each other. But his frustration is palpable. He can't bear to look at me. He turns me around, away from him. I want to cry out at the loss of his touch. He presses my front against the wall roughly. I feel him behind me, then closer, even closer, nestled against my back, his hardness against my ass. I close my eyes riveting in the feel of him. He's pressed against me. He's huge and hard and I want it everywhere. I haven't moved. He hasn't moved either. I haven't spoken nor has he. I'm so scared he'll step away from me. I'm so scared that he won't. I'm freaking out at the thought that he can smell how much I want him, but of course he can sense my arousal and how wet I am for him. He said so himself. I'm completely still, too afraid to move either way.

Then, his hand is hovering over my skin. His touch is so light, I think I'm imagining it. I can feel the tremble of his hand, as he hovers above me. His palm slowly touches my bare thigh. He touches me so carefully, as if he worries that I would break any second, crack into a million pieces. He moves his palm across my skin until he reaches the side of my hip and he remains there. His touch is scorching my skin and I swallow an agonising groan.

Jon leans his forehead onto my shoulder, as if in desperation, trying to stop whatever he's about to do. His desperation is tangible. What is he about to do? He moves his arm around me, lifts me up slightly and pushes my butt against him. Either I'm incredibly light or he's insanely strong. "Tell me to stop. Please." He sobs into my shoulder. "Please Clary, I beg you. Make it stop," he almost screams.

I remain quiet though. The last thing I want is for him to stop. I yearn for him and I want to see how far he takes this. I get my answer when I feel him rocking into my butt, rubbing himself against my cleft, pushing his cock desperately into me, as much as is possible with the fabric still in between us. He's groaning at the sensation of our collision and I wish for him to rip the fabric between us into tiny shreds. Sounds escape him, agonising sounds. "Jon?" Silence. It's so quiet. If I couldn't still feel him holding me against him, I would have thought he left. Slowly I shuffle and manage to twist around in his arms all the way, until I face him. It's too dark for me to see his face. All I see is his hunched form. My heart tears a little bit. I prop myself on top of the chest of drawers next to us, and pull him towards me. We would be at eye level if Jon hadn't buried himself in the nook of my neck. He's frozen still and won't look at me. I stroke my hands through his soft hair and slowly wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him towards me. But he grabs my thighs and stops me. "Don't. Please don't," He cries.

"It's okay," I whisper. I carefully pull him closer and he lets me. I move him towards me until we connect. I feel him through his jeans, hot and hard against my soft centre. His whole body shivers at the contact. I can almost feel all of him. His perfect shape. I want him inside of me so badly it hurts. Deep down I know that I can't rush him though. I hear him breathing in and out and his breath scorches the whole side of my shoulder. Slowly I shift my hips and rub myself up and down his cock, hoping that he wants this as much as I do.

"Clary. Don't," he chokes out.

"It's ok," I whisper. "I want you." I take his hand and lead it underneath my soaked panties. I rub myself against his palm and sob at the sensation. He's still. Frozen into space. All I hear is our heavy breathing. The silence that surrounds us is deafening.

"Please touch me. I want you to." Why am I being so pushy? I don't want to scare him away.

He's completely still. Then finally, I feel him move his hand hesitantly across my wetness. A guttural sound escapes him and me at the same time. "Fuck. Your pussy." Carefully his finger moves up and down and across. He starts exploring the area underneath my lace. His thumb and finger glide all over me and I can't stop the moans that escape me. I want more. Always and forever.

"You feel so fucking amazing," he groans against my strokes become surer and quicker, he's continuing to explore me with curiosity and need, stringing me up like a violin, getting sounds out of me I never knew I could make. Every sound I make, he matches. His finger glides towards my wet opening and he strokes the rim in agonisingly slow circles. I need to feel him inside of me. Now. I'm so sensitive down there, I want to cry out, I bite my tongue to stifle my pleas. I don't want him to stop. Ever.

Jonathan keeps circling my entrance, running his finger around it in small circles, gasping all the while. His other hand runs through my curls over and over again, desperately clinging to them. Sounds of pain mixed in with pleasure escape him, a mix between a groan and a moan. "Please," he finally whispers pleadingly into my shoulder, "Please let me touch the inside of your sweet cunt." I move my hand towards his palm, giving him permission to enter me. Carefully, he moves his finger inside of me and it almost sends me over the edge. The sensation overwhelms us both. Our bodies tremble against each other. Slowly and hesitantly at first, he moves his finger deeper into me. "Jon," I exclaim and lean forward to get him even deeper into me. I kiss his neck and start nibbling his skin whilst slowly riding his hand back and forth. "Your little cunt feels like heaven." He groans and my moans match him. His finger is so deep, rubbing and twirling and pushing deeper and deeper. Then another finger enters me and my gasps turn crazed. Now, with three fingers inside of me, his palm is pressed against my sex and his thumb is teasing my clit. I'm completely enveloped by his big hand. The other hand grabs my ass, squeezing and kneading it harshly. The combination of pain and pleasure gets me to another high. It's the most deliciously aganosing feeling.

Little gasps of shock escape me. I didn't know it was possible to feel this turned on. There's so much heat coiling within me that I both crave and dread the explosion that will follow. Jon mutters under his breath, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!. It's too much. Your pussy! Fuck" over and over again. He's pressed his face into my neck, burying himself there as if in desperation and shame. I move my hand to his hair and start stroking him reassuringly, but I think I make it worse, because I hear him gasping in agony against me. Silence. Then a whisper, "I love you. I want you so damn much," I think I hear him say, but I can't be sure. His voice comes out sounding muffled. I want to ask him what he has said, to be sure, but he doesn't seem alright. I think that perhaps… Maybe we should stop? For some reason, the fact that he's touching me like this doesn't feel wrong in the slightest to me. Not once have I questioned it. Nothing has ever made this much sense to me. Like it's meant to be. Yet, it's not the same for him. I can sense the guilt wrecking him. I know he won't kiss me again. As if that would cross another line for him. I get the panicked sense that he doesn't feel the same. No, he does! I heard him. I see him wanting me so much it kills him. What he's doing to me right now is beautiful, but it seems to give him agonising amounts of despair. I don't want him to hurt like this. He needs to stop. But, The things he's doing to me. I never want them to stop. I tell myself sixty more seconds and I'll walk away. Sixty seconds turn into more and more. I can't make myself ask him to stop. I just can't.

He continues touching me, discovering me over and over again, as if part of him could never tire from the feel of me. He still hasn't looked up. There are words and hisses and moans escaping his lips that are too quiet for me to decipher. I want so badly to touch him. But I'm scared he won't let me after my last try. I finally brave it and move my hand towards his jeans again. One little touch and perhaps more if he'll let me. Before I reach him though, he grabs my wrist hard and growls at me angrily, "No. You can't touch me." Instantly he removes the other hand that was playing with me and the absence of him turns me into ice. My body aches for him and I'm terrified at the thought that he won't touch me again. He doesn't say anything, as he picks me up and turns me around, so I'm kneeling on the cupboard, facing the wall. He doesn't want me to see him or touch him now. I want to cry out in despair and stop what we're doing if he's hating it so much, but I can't. I can't make myself move away from him. I'm glued to him forever. Anything he'll spare, I'll take. I'll take any scrap, all I want and need his him. That much is clear. He pulls my ass towards him, and without making a sound, he starts stroking, licking and biting it all over. I can feel his face pressed against my wetness when he whispers, "Please. Just one taste"

I push my butt into him to show him that it's ok. Part of me wants to cry at the fact that he can't stand to see me, see my face. I hear the rip of my thong and he takes me in his mouth from behind. The sensation is so deep and overwhelming , I cry out and all reason leaves me. I dig my nails into the wood beneath me, shredding it to pieces. I fear I'm going to come instantly. I force myself off that ledge. He starts licking me carefully, running his tongue over me in agonisingly slow strokes. He's going to kill me! Then he moves his hand to my front, and starts playing with my clit, pushing me further against his face, burying himself in me. He's taking it slow, baby steps. His tongue dips into me and I cry out. He responds in kind. The sounds he makes whilst tasting me is like nothing I've ever heard before. It's like he's been given the taste of the most exquisite chocolate. I'm so incredibly close to coming. I want to feel him everywhere, but he won't touch me anywhere else. That's gone. It's like he's too afraid to explore anything else. I almost want to beg him to touch my skin again, but then I feel him moving his wet finger around my anus, spreading the moisture around it and I gasp. No one has ever touched me there. I brace myself when I feel him carefully pushing the tip of his finger into me. I whimper and he growls into me, taking me even deeper. The things he does to me. His finger carefully moves in and out, as he's continuing to bury his tongue deep within me, continuing to assault my clit with one hand and my butt with the other. He's taken me over, completely invaded all of my senses. He's everywhere and I'm scared that I can't handle it. That I'm too inexperienced for him. I don't know whether to cry, groan or laugh. My emotions are all over the place. I rub myself against his mouth, against his face, faster and faster. My moans are probably being heard from the other side of the castle. He hits so many of my points at once, I don't know which is giving me the most pleasure. The pleasure is so acute, it's almost painful. Hot heat pools within me. I call out his name over and over again, the heat intensifies and with one enormous rush I explode, pushing myself against him with agonising force, riding out the last wave of the never ending orgasm, crying out his name like a prayer.

The silence is deafening. Once again. That. Was. Indescribable. I want to turn around and tell him, but he's holding me so tight. I feel an enormous tremor going through his body to mine. "Jon?" A shrill sound, like a tortured animal comes out of him. Then I'm free. Carefully I turn. I'm naked. Jonathan is fully dressed. He is bent over as if he's going to be sick. He looks up. His hand is covering half his face. He looks horrified. His hand keeps trying to swallow up his mouth. He furiously starts rubbing both his hands across his face and head, pulling at his hair. He falls to his knees, crying out in despair. I think he's saying, "What have I done!" Over and over again. He can't see how happy and light and fulfilled I feel. He doesn't know the things he made me feel. Jon looks like he's about to lose it. What have I done?! My heart breaks into a million pieces. Panic like nothing I've ever felt before seeps through me and all I can think of is that what just happened, was the most beautiful thing. But I feel myself sobering up. A fog lifts off my brain and somehow it's making me question my sanity now. Why am I not guilt-ridden though? I know that, what just happened is wrong. yet it felt so right, I want to scream. But the thought, that it will never ever happen again seeps through me and it terrifies me. I look at Jonathan's broken form. I'm scared to approach him, but I have to. I have to fix this. Make him see how right we are for each other, like two sides of one heart. He has to see it! I take a step. Then another. Jonathan looks up at me. Absolutely horror-stricken. Then he turns and leaves like the wind. I shout his name in vain. He's left me. Please, I beg to whoever listens - please let him stay. I don't think I would survive him disappearing on me again. The realisation hits me like an arrow, straight in the middle of my heart, ripping and tearing through it all. I fall to the floor, crying out at the realisation that what just happened can never be undone and never unfelt. The realisation that my most beautiful moments are his worst. How will I go on living without his touch? Without his love?

Somewhere behind Clary, a shadow moves and quietly steps through the wall, excited to share with his Queen what he has witnessed.

Somewhere else, a light haired man stands still like a statue, with the taste of her still in his mouth. Her arousal, still buried deep in his nostrils. The fog has cleared from his brain. He stands still, with a long shard of glass pointing towards his heart, imploring himself to end it.