A/N This chapter contains a slow building, if a little explicit, Lemon. I read so many fics where Clary and Jace consummate their relationship, only to have authors talk about how much pain she feels during sex. Why do we continue to tell this story when it's not statistically the cultural norm, and it inherently puts all of the power into the man's agency and body? Clary's a smart, self-motivated woman. Why would her first sexual experiences be any less than a reflection of that, in spite of Jace's subtextual wealth of knowledge? This gave me a chance to highlight Clary's agency and Jace's insecurities and misinformation about women's sexualities.
No copyright infringement is intended. All original works and verbatim transcriptions belong to Cassandra Claire.
It hadn't been easy convincing the Lightwoods, or the Inquisitor for that matter, that the DNA tests we had taken were reliable. Clary had tried to do a good job of explaining how parents pass on specific genetic markers to their children; she even related it to how children born from a Shadowhunter parent and mundane parent would be Shadowhunters because that part of the blood was always dominant. It seemed she talked in circles, until finally I could take no more.
"Look, I know you don't understand, but the point is we're not related. We're not brother and sister, we're not even second cousins once removed. If you know of some other way we can confirm what the test says, that's fine, but this is more than enough for me."
It was just a beat of silence before the shouting began. Clary reached for my hand as she looked at me. This wasn't anything we hadn't expected, but it still sucked to feel like they were so set against us. We stood, side by side, our hands clasped tightly together, unable to make out exactly who said what. Maryse stood, opening her arms to call for silence. "And what happens if you're told otherwise? Are you prepared for the consequences?" Her face was hard.
It was a question I had asked myself frequently before the letter. I had considered that Clary and I could go on the run; I would learn to live mundane, give up everything I had known, so we could be together. Clary's hand squeezed mine, and that was all the answer I needed. Still, she beat me to the punch line.
"Maryse, respectfully, I understand your reluctance to trust mundane science, but I'm frankly concerned and a little frightened that you seem so quick to take Valentine's word as gospel. Isn't that what got you into this mess to start with?" I've seen Maryse all kinds of angry, especially at me, but she turned about 10 shades of pink then red and almost purple as Clary's question struck home like a dagger to the heart. Before she could verbally shoot back, the Inquisitor stood, loudly scraping her chair along the library floor.
"That's quite enough I think. I am not displeased by this turn of events, but neither am I satisfied. I will take this news back to the Clave where the council will further discuss both the parentage of Jonathan Wayland and the ramifications for this… union." She stepped in front of me, looking me squarely in the eyes. "I will rescind Bane's guardianship, however you will continue to live here at the Institute and you will remain in New York. Anything else will result in a second visit to the dungeons in the Silent City." I couldn't help the tremor that shot through me. It was an unpleasant memory to say the least. "Maryse, show me out," the Inquisitor commanded.
That left us alone with Alec and Isabelle. I couldn't say I was looking forward to the inevitable heart to heart with him. We were parabatai, closer than close in a spiritual sense, but I remained guarded for so much of our lives. I would need to remind myself to suppress my sarcasm when it happened. "Thank the Angel that's over," chimed Izzy. "Now we can finally get on with our lives and you can stop acting like a whipped puppy." Not what I was expecting. My face must have echoed my thoughts as Izzy huffed.
"Oh please, since the second she walked into that storeroom in Pandemonium, you've been pining. All this drama of 'are they, aren't they' was totally exasperating. Now you can just do it, and get it over with." And she swept through the door, leaving us behind with Alec. I thought for sure Clary would've blushed at Izzy's last comment, but instead there was a little glint in her eyes.
"I'm going to follow Isabelle. Maybe I can show her something simple in the kitchen." She winked at me, letting our hands drop as she turned to the door. The moment had arrived.
"Look, Jace, I'm…"
"Hey, Alec, I'm…"
We had started speaking at the same time, followed by awkward chuckles. Eventually, we sat down at the long table and had the inevitable heart to heart. It went better than expected. Before we left the room, he sincerely congratulated me on being able to be with Clary, and I waggled my eyebrows and made lewd comments about Magnus. I felt confident that we would be okay.
Church met us in the corridor. Alec peeled off toward the training room, and I followed the swishing grey tail toward the kitchen. I poked at the swinging door with a finger, expecting a plume of smoke to waft into the hallway. Not only did that not happen, but instead a pleasant smell filtered into the air. Eagerly, I pushed through to find Clary and Isabelle sat at the table, each munching what appeared to be a cheese sandwich. The smell was much more intense, and my stomach rumbled at the sight and smell. "Want one?" Izzy asked.
"Absolutely, but only if Clary makes it; I'd like to live to see tomorrow."
"Hey now," interjected Clary. "Isabelle made these, and they're really good. Give her the benefit of the doubt."
"If you're wrong, you'll have to weep over my body for a week before they incinerate my corpse to add to the City of Bones."
"You won't know what I do if you're dead."
"Touché. Go ahead, oh great culinary mistress, show me your skills!" Izzy got up from her place and went to move toward the fridge. She detoured her journey long enough to clip me in the shoulder. "Ass."
Turned out that Clary's tutelage had worked wonders. Izzy managed the grilled cheese sandwich fairly well, only singeing one side of the bread. It wasn't terrible as I'd always liked my bread a little burnt anyhow. "Ok, I concede; it's pretty good. What will you be tackling next?"
"I don't know. Clary says I need a book."
"That's not all I said. You also need to taste everything as you're making it, remember? You're ambitious, which is great, but if you don't know which flavors go together, then your food will never be good." Izzy silently gathered the plates from the table and put them in the sink, clearly meditating on what she had learned. She left us alone, and I immediately stretched a hand across the wood. Clary did the same, and we grasped hands near the center.
She turned her hand so our palms faced and then curled her fingers around mine. When she started swishing her thumb back and forth over our knuckles, I was genuinely confused. "Oh come on. Play with me!" I would have loved to, but I had a feeling that wasn't what she was talking about. She twisted our hands, pinning my thumb beneath hers. "One, two, three, four, I win a thumb war!" She sounded absolutely triumphant. Laughing at her joy, I had to ask. "What are you on about?"
"You mean you don't know thumb wars?"
"I know about all kinds of wars, but those with thumbs? I think Hodge missed that bit." Even now his name cut into me.
"It's clear to me that you've missed out on so much being stuck in this Institute. What did you do for fun growing up? Did you play board games? Did you go to parks and swing on swings and go on the merry-go-round until you were practically sick? Did you feed the ducks in Central Park?"
"Nasty things that chase you the minute all the bread is gone from your pocket. You can never trust a duck."
"You can't be serious."
"Oh but I am." She studied me a moment, her brows knitting together in mistrust.
"Fine, fine. But that means, I'm taking it upon myself to show you some of the better parts of the mundane world. Have you ever been to Coney Island?"
"Only to kill demons."
"See, that's exactly what I'm talking about. You have no appreciation for the world. I know you can't exactly turn off your Sight, but there's a whole big world out there for you to experience beyond the tip of a seraph blade."
"Like thumb wars and Coney Island." She looked at our fisted hands.
"It doesn't seem like much, but it's a start."
And so it began. Sometimes she would bring something to the Institute, like the night she brought an armload of what she insisted were classic board games. Even Alec and Isabelle were roped into playing. I had to admit watching Alec become increasingly frustrated with the pincers used for Operation was incredibly entertaining. Sometimes we went to Luke's, where we watched endless movies that were her favorites or more classics that apparently were not to be missed. When we weren't doing that, she was taking me all over New York, attempting to show me the "normal" things that couples did.
Even as it felt freeing to openly show the world we were together, I never could dampen my Sight. Everywhere we went, I saw the Shadow World. I saw the demons and errant Downworlders as we traveled the subways and sat in darkened movie theaters. From the time I had started leaving the Institute for hunting, I never went anywhere without a few weapons. I had to resist using them. Before Clary, I followed a demon nearly anytime I spotted one. Now, everything was about protecting her and keeping her safe. I couldn't just leave her defenseless to hunt down some creature. She was Nephilim, no doubt of that, but she hadn't spent her life training and she wasn't covered in the protection Marks that I was. So I stayed where I was, watching the threats go by, as we experienced her world. I still did plenty of hunting, and it wasn't unreasonable for her to ask that we have a day or two for just us. And, I took care to remind myself that if the Clave looked into our blood lines, I might someday have to live mundane. It was good practice.
One evening found us at Luke's for yet another movie night. This time she insisted we watch Ghostbusters for both the 1980s nostalgia and the absurdity of their hunting methods. There was no way that script was written by a mundy, but I didn't tell Clary that as she mouthed the lines and laughed at the jokes she clearly knew well. The phone rang just as the characters were gaining moderate success with their business. She hopped up from the couch to chase down her cell which was somewhere in her backpack.
"That was Luke. Apparently there's some pack business that he needs to take care of. He says he might have a late night." There was a mischievous glint in her eyes that could only mean good things for me. "He says I'm supposed to send you back to the Institute. Now."
"Well that's certainly bad form. Don't I even get to see the end of the movie?" I was already moving across the room.
"Nope." The 'p' popping from her lips.
"Pity." I gathered her into my arms when I reached her, pulling our faces closer to meet in the inevitable kiss. Since we had gone public with our relationship, Maryse and Luke watched us like hawks. It was one thing when we were brother and sister, but now we weren't allowed anywhere near bedrooms when we were together. Not that we needed bedrooms. The Institute was filled with rooms that had no beds, like the library, which worked well enough for frenzied kisses and cursory groping. But sooner or later, one of us would come back to our senses—usually Clary—and we would put ourselves back in order before rejoining the world.
In those moments, I always had to remind myself that I owed her more than a quickie shoved up against a bookshelf. It would be her first time with someone, a fact that made me a little possessive and proud. I only got one shot at doing this right for her, and I knew it was likely she would feel pain. It had occurred to me that I could Mark her before so that it was lessened, but that would be a mood killer for sure. Still, if it made the experience better for her, then what was a pause with a little awkwardness?
My mind had strayed but violently returned to the moment when Clary's hand slid under the hem of my shirt. She followed the line of my hip and then traveled up the side of my ribcage. When she reached the edge of my shoulder blades, she raked her nails down the length of my back. Unbidden, I bucked against her, moaning into her mouth. I felt her lips curve upward in a smile, pleased with my reaction. Instinctively, I wanted to hoist her into my arms and dash to the bedroom. My rational mind begged me to go slow, or at least at a pace that Clary set. It was quickly becoming the losing side of the silent argument.
Fortunately, she distracted me from myself as she took the initiative by hooking her fingers through the belt loops on either side of my hips, yanking me a step forward. A step closer to her room. I didn't need anymore incentive. Without breaking our kisses and contact, we made the slow walk toward the right door. When her back was against it, her hand fumbled with the knob for a second before it swung open, offering us admittance. Clary pulled away just long enough to orient herself and calculate our trajectory to the bed. I took a second to remind myself that things would only go as far as she wanted them to. Everything was new with her, and I was enjoying getting to learn her body and reactions. There was no rush. "Hey," I whispered, drawing her attention back to me. "We don't have to do anything tonight."
She rolled her eyes.
"Shut up, Jace." She punctuated it with a smirk just before she yanked her t-shirt over her head, revealing the expanse of the soft skin of her stomach and bra covered breasts. The navy colored material made her creamy skin glow. My eyes roamed over her torso and when they connected with hers, I could see the amusement there. I wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, how lucky I was that she walked into that damn closet, how I would never forget this moment. I also didn't want to ruin the moment with words, so instead I gathered her back into my arms, tilting her face to mine, brushing my lips to hers, heavy with unspoken feelings. Her arms twined around my neck, not unlike the way they had in the Seelie Court. But now, my hands touched only her skin and the feeling of her body rubbing against my thin t-shirt was the best kind of torture. She tugged at the material, and I complied with her request.
My shirt landed on the floor a few feet from hers. Skin against skin. It felt like I was on fire. Heat bloomed everywhere she touched me, and when her fingers ghosted over my shoulders the sensation intensified. Our mouths rarely parted, and an errant thought told me her face would be pink and chapped from the rasp of my day old stubble. Taking that as a cue, I kissed the corner of her lips, the hollow of her cheek, and the curve of her jaw. She craned her neck to the side, dropping her forehead to my collarbone. As I reached the meeting of her neck and shoulder, my hands moved from the bottom of her back to the clasp of the bra. I could throw a dagger at 30 feet with complete accuracy. Undo the hooks without looking? Impossible.
The band separated and fell to the sides, exposing the full length of her back. We had been here before, but when she stepped back slightly from my hold and let the straps fall from her shoulders down the length of her arms, she was bare to me for the first time. When I had imagined this moment, I saw the flush of blood creep up her torso and turn her cheeks that beautiful shade of pink. The blush never came. In fact, she looked like she was fighting the urge to put her hands on her hips and puff her chest higher, like she was daring me to look anywhere but her pert breasts.
She rarely did what I expected, and I felt a little proud that she didn't shrink away from me in embarrassment. There had been other girls who had turned away from me and covered themselves with hands, arms, or discarded clothes. Their feelings of inadequacy were palpable as they mumbled apologies for being somehow not enough. Not my Clary, no she stood with a serene smile on her face and eyes wide with tender lust and confidence. And I loved her all the more for it.
My hands had remained resting on her waist, and I gently tugged her forward so we were flush to each other. She gasped at the new sensation as her nipples hardened when they drug across my chest. I felt them stiffen at the contact and suppressed my voice. We stood hugging each other, just feeling the warmth of our skin pressed close. I loved holding her like this, but every time she made a movement the flames erupted inside of me, and I was fighting to stay still the longer time passed.
Again, Clary moved things forward by repeating her earlier gestures of scraping her nails down my back. My head fell to her shoulder, and I tucked my face into the corner of her neck once more, breathing deeply. A ragged breath screamed through my lungs the second she put her mouth over my nipple; her tongue working a slow circle around the sensitive flesh. Then, I felt the edge of her teeth bite ever so softly.
It was my undoing. Moaning, I nipped at her neck and lifted her into my arms. She held fast to me, her head repositioning from my chest to my shoulder as I shuffled us to the bed. We tumbled into it when I lost balance when Clary's weight shifted as she touched the mattress. We stretched diagonally across the bed, a heap of bodies and limbs. She didn't waste time asking me to move myself so she could breathe better. Instead she put her hands on both sides of my face and stared into my eyes. She searched for something and apparently found it because her eyes lit and her lips turned up into a soft smile. Bumping her nose against mine, we rubbed the tips back and forth for a second. Her giggles before our lips met again were a balm to my soul. And, it occurred to me that I'd never done Eskimo Kisses with anyone else before.
While our lips were busy, I took my opportunity to explore her torso with my hands. I had touched her breasts before, but always under her shirt and usually her bra, too. Now I had a chance to explore her properly. My hands were as always callused and rough. The heel of my palm where the pommel of a seraph blade rested was especially hard, and Clary arched into me as the coarse skin ghosted over her nipple. Her moan was low and breathy; her leg hitched higher against my thigh and she dragged her bare foot as far down my leg as she could reach.
Her response had repositioned our bodies just so, and I flexed my hips against her, feeling the friction of the layers between us stroke my cock. My hand stilled over her breast as the feeling of pleasure surged through me. Clary nuzzled my cheek while she let her hands glide softly up and down my back. Every time her fingertips found a scar or Mark, she traced them as though memorizing the map that showed my lifetime of battles. The feeling of her fingers on me brought me back to the intimacy of this moment. Outside of actually being Marked, usually by Alec, no one touched me like this.
Then something changed. Her index finger continued to draw, but she had stopped tracing the patterns that were already there. It took me a second to realize that she was drawing new, unknown runes; her fingers invisibly etching messages into me. My heart swelled, and an ache, though not unpleasant, settled inside of my chest. I watched her face, serene and happy, while she touched me so gently. The words filled my mouth, and I knew that her Marks were the cause for the sudden, deep seated need to tell her exactly how I felt. It wasn't that I had been hiding it or that it wasn't true, but things were still new between us in many respects, and I didn't want to complicate matters with those words. I didn't want her to feel overwhelmed, although I believed that she felt the same way I did. Clary would always be it for me; I never believed the stories, despite knowing how many of them are true.
Mentally, I gave myself a pep talk. I was about to disturb this moment between us with talk. Important talk, but talk nonetheless. I didn't think I could go another day without telling her exactly how I felt.
Again something changed.
The path of her hands moved to another space on my back, closer to my tailbone, and they resumed their curling and winding movements. Desire flared and my whole body was flooded with flames concentrating in my groin. I tried to stay still, but my body had other ideas. I bucked against her again, grinding myself into her to relieve some of the tension building in my veins.
Her hands scraped their way up my back, causing me to breathe a low, guttural moan, before they tangled in my hair. Where she had been gentle before, she yanked my head toward hers, the resulting kiss hard with teeth colliding as our lips fought. I stopped thinking while my body continued moving with hers, our hips working together to ease some of the pressure. It took what little concentration I had to make my body behave and hold off my orgasm. "This isn't about me!" I scolded myself. She bit my lip, hard, and it was the draw I needed to get a hold of myself. As soon as her teeth withdrew, I kissed my way down her neck.
Repeating her earlier actions, I sucked her left nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the perfect circle of the rose pink areola. She squeaked. Gratified by the sound, I moved my hand to tweak the other one while my mouth continued its assault. I twisted the stiff peak of the right nipple as I gently bit the left, which elicited a throaty "Oh." Touching her body provided better than ample distraction, and I decided it was time to raise the stakes.
Releasing her breasts, I trailed by face the length of her stomach, placing open-mouthed kisses as I went. For the first time since we landed on the bed, I moved my weight from her and repositioned myself in a crouch along her right side. My face reached the waist band of her jeans. Before I could over-think it, I tugged on the band with my index finger. I forced myself to look up and make eye contact with Clary. Hers were bright with lust and heat. She answered my unvoiced question by nodding her head once and lifting her hips from the mattress, clearly telling me it was time to take them off.
The button and fly of her jeans were much easier to undo than the damned bra clasp. Again she raised her hips to help me shimmy them from her body, leaving her long, smooth legs exposed. She shivered likely both with the new chill and anticipation. The only thing that remained on her body were the panties, also navy. Rather than fancy silk or satin, she chose cotton. Pretty but comfortable, I guessed.
With so much of her skin exposed, I was in no rush to remove the last piece of clothing from her body. I scooted back so I was near the bottom right corner of the bed so I could have greater access to her feet and legs. I had never seen her wear skirts or dresses, so this was all new territory. When we sat on Luke's sofa, curled close to each other, I often rubbed her bare feet. There was something fascinating about them, so small and soft compared to my own, and let's face it, significantly less hairy. She had taken to painting her toenails pale pink, though I never asked her why.
I kneaded the arch of her left foot, and Clary exhaled a contented sigh. One I had heard a number of times as I massaged her feet. And usually, just a few minutes more and she was asleep. Not exactly what we had been working up to tonight. Changing tactics, I drew my nail along the instep in a quick slash. As expected, she reflexively jerked her foot away from me. When our eyes met, she was giving me her angry kitten glare. "Be nice," she chided.
"I can do so much better than nice." Her eyelids fluttered and she lowered her leg, placing her foot back in my hands. I had intended for it to sound sultry, flirty.
"Prove it," she challenged.
A noise escaped from me, something between a cough and choke. This was a whole new side of her. If it had been anyone else, I would've rallied immediately, but this was Clary. I was frozen, unsure of what to do next. Her eyebrow arched and her lips curled into a dark smile. "Cat got your tongue?" Now she was goading me. Who was this woman?
When I continued to sit still and dumb, her expression changed to something more like concern. Tugging her foot from my soft hold, she sat up and scooched down the bed until she was in front of me. Clary took my hands in hers, knitting our fingers together and squeezing a little. Here she was, naked, inches from me, and she looked worried. "Jace," she whispered. "It never occurred to me that you might not be ready for this. Give me a second to…" I stopped hearing her at this point.
She thought it was me? Of all the ridiculous things. If she only knew how often I fantasized about her. After we got the test results, my numbers doubled, okay more like tripled, because then I didn't have to battle the disgust that came with thinking about her naked. Was she out of her mind? Of course I was ready for this; it was her I was worried about… she was the one…
And then it occurred to me: it really was me. Every time we had snuck off to a dark corner in the Institute, she had never shown any hesitance in letting me touch her. She hadn't been shy about touching me. Oh she had blushed ruby red the first time her fingers traced my straining erection through my jeans, but her hand was steady as the day is long. I was the one having anxiety about this apparently.
It finally registered that she was starting to move away from me, her eyes scanning the floor for her clothes. "No," I grunted and tugged her back to me, releasing her hands so I could hold her close. "Please don't think it's that I don't want this. It's not that at all."
"Then what is it? Talk to me, Jace."
"All this time I've been thinking about how I've only got one shot at doing this right for you, that I didn't want to rush you. It's a one time thing."
"I hope we're not going to have sex just one time. Well, I mean unless you're really terrible, then it's definitely over," she deadpanned.
"I don't understand. How are you so calm about this?" I felt genuinely confused.
Her expression softened as she reached a hand up to carefully touch the side of my face. She took a deep breath before she answered. "When Isabelle, Alec, and I made our way into the Silent City and saw the first dead Silent Brother, I had never felt terror like that before. Not because of what I was seeing, but because I knew you were trapped there somewhere, that anything could be happening to you. When I drew the rune to open the doors, all I could think about was that I wanted to destroy any obstacle that would keep me from reaching you. Then I saw you, banged up and a little worse for the wear but alive, and all I wanted to do was kiss you senseless. And now that the dust has settled and we know the truth, I don't see the point in acting coy or waiting. Not when I've seen first hand the kind of danger that is lurking every time we step outside the door. So you'll forgive me for not playing the frightened virgin bit, yes?"
"I'm an idiot." Words she would never hear me say again.
"You can be, but not about this. I appreciate that you were concerned for me." We had run out of words. So we held each other close, and I thanked the Angel for the thousandth time that she was real and with me. Her fingers resumed their tracing on my back. The swirls becoming more pronounced as she worked her way up my back and neck. She exhaled a slow, warm breath by my ear and I shuddered. Unknowingly, she had found one of my 'buttons.'
My breath hitched and I stilled in her arms. Clearly she understood because she did it a second time, deliberately nuzzling my ear with hot, slow air from her lungs. I sighed. Her fingertips pressed slightly harder into my skin, the new Mark made without a stele. She kissed the shell of my ear and worked her way toward my lips. They started soft, gentle, silently speaking the words neither of us had said. But, soon enough we were battling and when I bit her lip, a deep groan filled my mouth. Using her weight against us, she flung herself backwards so that I was again lying on top of her. It only took a quick adjustment to align our bodies.
With renewed awareness of Clary's nakedness, I resolved to stop worrying and follow her lead. I was conscious of the fact that I was still wearing my jeans. It appeared that so was she as her hands snaked down my torso to reach my belt. She didn't bother to pull away from our kisses to see what she was doing. Her blind hands made short work of the buckle. She separated the leather end from the brass catch, sighing as we became fractionally closer. "I think your belt was trying to murder me," she rasped.
"I'll be sure to teach it some manners. But at another time I think." She yanked hard on the belt, pulling it free of the loops and dropping it to the floor. Her hands went back to my jeans as she went to work on the button and zipper. Eager to show that I was right there with her, I lifted my hips from hers so that she could slide my jeans from my hips.
With a little awkward tugging, she managed to wrestle my jeans part way down my thighs. She didn't so much as bat an eye or pause her kisses when she carefully moved my aching, boxer-clad dick aside so she could free it from the white pocket fabric. She didn't, but I certainly did. The heat from her hand, even with the fabric between us, was intense. Her fingertips lingered a moment, tracing the full length from bottom to tip, before she went back to my jeans. I wanted to move her hand back, to have her palm my cock with her hot skin, but she was set of taking off my pants and when her arms couldn't reach any further, she bent her legs to use her feet to help work them the rest of the way down my legs.
I felt like I was going to combust. In all those years of demon hunting, I now felt like I could understand what it was like when I watched them burst into flames and disappear from this dimension. Moving her legs meant our bodies were rubbing together in the best ways, the flimsy fabric of her panties and my boxers the only barrier between us and sex. Somewhere from the back of my mind, I remembered that it wasn't smart to advance right into sex. She would feel pain I was sure, but I needed to do everything I could to lessen it. There was no stele at hand so the awkward Mark was out, but I could make sure she was at the height of her pleasure first.
Carefully, I repositioned myself to once again lie next to her. This way I could actually touch her body instead of using my hands and forearms to keep most of my weight off of her. I didn't miss a beat as my right hand caressed her firm stomach, my index finger dipping just inside the hollow of her belly button. Grazing the underside of her breast, she squirmed, rubbing her legs together for a little friction. I was ready to move forward, trusting that Clary would stop me if she was uncomfortable. Her breasts were soft, supple in my hands and she responded to even the lightest changes in pressure to her skin. Her toes curled and her feet fluttered as she tried to make her body keep still. Taking that as my cue, my mouth replaced my hands as I laved the skin of her chest.
I let my fingertips glide down her ribcage, over her abs, and stop at the elastic of her panties. I felt rather than saw her assent when she nodded her head once, purposefully bumping noses with me. We continued with soft, open-mouth kisses while my hand dipped below the fabric for the first time. Immediately I encountered the soft, coarse thatch of hair that covered her mons. Continuing forward, I felt the cleft where her labia began. Finally my fingers touched her clit; Clary gasped into my mouth, her eyes flying open at the contact. I stared by back at her, our mouths frozen mid kiss, as I brushed the pad of my index finger ever so softly over the sensitive flesh. Her eyes fluttered a moment before reconnecting with mine, the look in them intense with desire.
My right hand slipped further down to feel the warm, moist folds, and I was gratified by her low grunt. I was careful in my movements, but it was clear that they were still a little awkward as I was encumbered by her panties. Although I was unsure about removing them, Clary was not. She guided my hand back up to her stomach before curling her legs close to her chest so she could slip them off. Her gaze was hot and intent as she stretched her body out, completely naked in front of me for the first time. I couldn't hold her stare for long, and my eyes darted down to really take in the sight of her. Everything about her was beautiful, and I was humbled yet again that she picked me to share this experience with.
Not wanting to break the spell of the moment, I ran my fingers through the patch of red hair, lightly tugging it as I parted her labia. Encouraged by the way her hips subtly lifted to meet the pressure of my hand, I continued with gentle, deliberate strokes. Her eyes drifted shut again, and I applied more pressure with the pad of my index finger. "Ouch!" My hand shot back as though I'd been burned. Anxiety poured through me. How had I hurt her? I was pretty sure I knew what I was doing. Prior experience and all. I searched her face for answers.
When Clary rolled over turning away from me, I was verging on frantic. What had I done? Before my mind could run away with itself, she snugged herself back up against me. The feeling of her bare skin the length of my almost equally bare body was nothing short of intoxicating. It would be difficult not to thrust against her as her bottom rubbed my groin in just the right places for me to the feel the friction. Laying her right hand atop mine, she guided them both down her body. "Here," she murmured, "like this." The 's' hissing through her teeth when my fingertips made contact with the side of her clit. She manipulated my hand, expertly showing me exactly how she liked to be touched.
It was absolutely the most erotic thing I had ever experienced. I'd been with girls who were aggressive in bed, but it was all dirty talk and position changes. This was completely different. It was so much more intimate, watching her use me to get herself off. Her body began to thrust and buck against mine as she found the rhythm she was looking for, and I could help but moved with her, silently praying that I could keep myself together long enough to let her finish first. She held my fingers to the side of her, steadily pushing them back and forth, instead of directly over the center of clit.
When her speed increased, she nudged my hand forward urging the heel of my hand to take over the rhythm that my fingers had been moving to. It only took a few seconds before she pushed my index finger as deeply inside of her as she could; her own staying firmly next to mine so that both of our fingers began to work in and out of her to the same silent beat. I tried to keep still, to pay attention, to maintain some grip on sanity, but it was a losing battle. This was so much more than I ever expected from this night, and she felt so incredibly good under my hands and pressed against my body. All heat and slickness and softness and just Clary.
I felt her pick up just a bit more speed and pressure in her thrust and I knew she was close to orgasm. A low rumbled "Oh" escaped her mouth as her head dropped back to my shoulder. Her muscles clenched around our fingers as she reached her peak and then toppled over it, erratically jerking her body and our hands through it. We were both panting, and I was mentally reciting sections of the Codex to try to keep myself from following with her. I had a fine recovery time, but wanted to spare myself the embarrassment of coming in my shorts before she even had a chance to really touch me.
Clary withdrew our fingers from her vagina, and to my surprise ran them the length of her torso, leaving a slick trail as she went. She turned to face me, a calm sleepy smile on her lips. "If you want anything else to happen tonight, it has to be now, otherwise I'm going to sleep." A quick yawn escaped her mouth as if to punctuate the seriousness of her statement.
"Not a chance." There was no way I was going to let sleep come between me and Clary. I covered her mouth with mine, forcing my tongue past her lips. My arms twisted around her, hauling her hips against mine so that she could feel me press against her. It only took a second before her enthusiasm matched mine. She fisted her hands in my hair, and her tongue fought with mine, the field of battle shifting from her mouth to mine and back again. The last of my caution went out the window when the gap in my boxers widened and I felt the warmth of her wet center make contact with my dick. I pressed her impossibly closer while rolling us over.
Now that I was on top of her, I hitched her left leg high up on my hip so I could grind into her. My breath caught at the intense friction and feeling of the fabric and skin working together against me. I dropped my head to her shoulder, intermittently kissing her neck as we moved in time. Somehow I knew she was touching me, that her fingers were gliding over my skin, but I was so focused on the building heat and pressure in my groin that when her hand snaked between us and she gripped me in a loose fist, I almost lost it. Her name flew from between my gritted teeth, and I buried my face in her neck unable to look at her.
Her first few strokes were slow, measured, clearly testing my body and my reactions. Outside of fisting me too hard or scratching me with a fingernail, there wasn't much that would feel bad. I moaned into her skin, trying to encourage her to go faster. The feeling of her hand on me, her skin pressed against mine… it was Heaven. And then she stopped. Her hand withdrew and I was completely confused, until I felt her tugging at the waistband of my boxers, pushing them down over my hips. Catching on, I rolled off of her and took them off myself.
Turning my attention back to her, I could see that she was staring at me. It occurred to me I was probably the first naked man she had seen. I was fascinated as her emotions flitted across her face. Wonder, curiosity, and then something that looked like confusion. "I hope I meet your expectations." My comment jarred her and her eyes flashed to mine. For the first time tonight, she blushed scarlet, the flush reaching all the way down her neck and part of her chest.
"I'm sorry, I just can't imagine it. It seems like a huge inconvenience to have this thing between your legs. It must get in the way all the time!"
As ever, that was not what I was expecting. And, I wasn't exactly sure how to tactically redirect the conversation. Shrugging my shoulders, I countered, "I don't know any different. I can't imagine what it's like to have boobs. Now they seem like a distraction." I reached over to tweak the left nipple. Her hands jumped up to playfully swat my hand away and protect her chest.
"Well," she began, a wicked glint streaking through her eyes. "Someday when you're old and fat, I'm sure you'll have a nice pair of your own and you can know for yourself." Old and fat! A Shadowhunter didn't have the luxury of believing he would grow old; it was the nature of fighting demons every day of your life. But fat? Never!
She was goading me again, and I was glad for the distraction. "You're in for it now." I was completely aware that we were both naked now, but I used my strength to flip her on top me. The length of our bodies touching from tip to toe was intoxicating, but before I got caught up, I skittered my fingers up and down her ribs. She tried to pry my hands away from her body, but with no success, and she laughed until she was breathless. Her eyes crinkled at the corners from being pressed so tightly together and a tear or two started to trickle from them.
Her chest shook and heaved as she caught her breath, my hands relenting, if only slightly, so she could breathe again. Clary's face was firmly planted to the side of my neck, but as her breathing evened out, she pulled back to look at me. "This is why I love you." Before I could think to respond, she bent to place a sweet kiss on my lips. She pulled away too quickly. "I'm sad other people don't see this side of you, but I'm grateful that I do."
Instinctively, I wanted to respond with sarcasm "I'm not sure Izzy would appreciate seeing me like this, but then again…" but her words were so honest, so unguarded. And true. I'd never been this way with anyone but Clary. I couldn't let my guard down long enough. Something inside of me broke, releasing a torrent of things I'd been suppressing for a lifetime. I stroked the side of her face. "By the Angel, I don't deserve you." She was prepared to protest. Her mouth opened, but I covered it with the hand that was already on her face. "No, I really don't, but I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to." This time I didn't choke on the words. "I love you because you're so much more than I'll ever be."
Where her kiss was gentle and heartfelt, mine was ardent, filled with all of the passion I felt for her. Our lips separated just long enough for her to moan my name. When her hips flexed against mine, I became acutely aware of our positions. Some slight maneuvering and we would be joined in the most intimate of ways, as close to being the same body as we could get. I ached for it even as I worried about the pain I would cause her. But what more could I do?
Our bodies moved with and against each other, her vulva slippery and hot against my erection. I was past thinking ability, working mostly on autopilot as the pleasure filled me, spreading straight from my cock. "Jace," her breathless voice nudged the edges of my consciousness. "Jace wait." Her body lifted from mine and stilled, and my eyes popped open to see her expression. Had she changed her mind? "Before we get too carried away." None-too-gracefully, Clary toppled off of me and crawled across the empty expanse of sheet to her bedside table. She rifled around for a second, and then drew back, purposefully extending her hand to me. It held a small, gold foil packet.
I mentally smacked my palm to my forehead. Of course! I was so caught up in the feeling of her and my peripheral anxiety about hurting her that I forgot about protection. The Angel knew I was not cut out for fatherhood; I didn't know my own place in the world, let alone guide a kid to theirs. Without hesitation, I took the condom from her, finding the jagged teeth of the wrapper so I could tear it open.
It took me a little added concentration to roll it on; it had been a while since the last time I had used one. She watched, fascinated, as I pinched the tip to keep the air out and stretch the rubber down the length of my shaft. Just as I was checking to make sure it was firmly in place, Clary repositioned herself to rub her whole body against my side. "Now, where were we?" Wordlessly I answered her by leaning to my side, pulling her face to mine. I would never get tired of kissing her. Our hands went back to exploring each other, following a similar path of skin starting on our torsos and down our stomachs, around the f curve of pelvises and into the crease of our legs. My fingers traced the outline of her labia while hers circled the base of my penis, periodically curling them into my gold hair. Her hand dipped lower, cupping my balls, experimentally stroking the skin and feeling the weight of them in her hand. It felt incredible and it took some effort to separate some of myself from the shocks of pleasure streaking through me so I could concentrate on her.
Emulating the movements she taught me earlier, I rocked my fingers next to her clit until she started to mewl and move with me. Her hands stilled over my body when I dipped my index finger inside of her. A few strokes more and she was gently pushing on my chest, indicating that I should lie on my back. I cocked a questioning eyebrow at her. "It'll be easier this way." How she knew this I wasn't sure, but I was more than willing to have her take control if it would make this first time better for her. I complied, and we returned to our previous position, our centers touching in the almost-not-quite way that sent ripples through our nerves. We were slow in our movements, but we were practically mashing ourselves together as we went higher up the metaphoric mountain. My hands had come to rest on the curve of her ass, and I massage the firm skin with each measured thrust.
Clary's right hand reached between us. Her hips lifted and she grasped my head just enough to position me at her entrance. An errant thought scolded me that we hadn't thought to use some lube. Our lips were pressed together mid-kiss, and I cautiously opened my eyes to see Clary's shut in absolutely concentration. She lowered her body excruciatingly slowly, sending a lightening bolt straight to my heart. Her body took me in centimeter by centimeter, softly squeezing me as she went. Halfway through, her face relaxed considerably and her lips resumed kissing me.
Then she stopped moving. This was it. We were joined completely. I filled her even as she held me captive inside of her. We locked eyes, soft joy evident in her expression as she rubbed noses with me. Hugging her close, I never wanted to let her go.
And then she moved. Using her legs for leverage, she lifted her body, almost as slowly as before. My eyes rolled back in my head and I was blind to anything but the sensations jolting through me. When she lowered herself again, her breath caught in her throat and a low moan filled my ears when she touched home again. Her head dropped to my shoulder and she repeated the action, lifting her weight from me and then descending again. I started to thrust with her in the rhythm that she set, and soon enough she was pressing her palms into my chest so she could sit up further, changing the angle inside of her. She was nothing short of remarkable.
I was all too aware of how close I was to teetering over the edge of my orgasm. I didn't want to come and then leave her wanting, so I slipped my hand to the space where our bodies met. The first time I grazed her clit, a high pitched whine sang from her throat. Taking it as a good sign, I held my hand in that position, letting her shift her hips to touch me in just the way she needed. I could feel her tightening around me as she got closer and closer, but I couldn't hold on anymore. Against my will, my hands found purchase on her waist, and I urged her to move faster as I thrust against her as hard as I could.
My muscles contracted almost impossibly tight before simultaneously releasing. A long sigh exhaled from my lungs, and I involuntarily jerked as the spasm rocked through my body. I pulled Clary down to my chest to wrap her in a hug as the aftershocks of my orgasm bolted through me. She continued to rock her hips against me, searching for her own. Even as I was beginning to soften inside of her, I reached my hand down to again find that spot where she could thrust her hips to find the friction to she wanted. Two minutes more and she was grinding herself against me so fiercely it was nearly painful.
But then I felt her stiffen and she fisted the sheets in her hands as she moved through it, her muscles pushing me out of her body. The connection severed, we panted and held each other close. As I started to come back to myself, I wanted to make sure that Clary was okay, that if she was feeling any pain, I could make her feel better. It wouldn't be anything now for me to get out of bed and find her stele in her bag in the living room. I peppered kisses on her face and nuzzled her skin. "Hey," I whispered in her ear.
"Hey," she responded, a sleepy smile accompanied by her drooping eyelids. Unceremoniously, she flopped next to me and curled into my side. She was adorable.
"Can I get you anything? Are you in pain at all?"
"Nope, I'm perfect." She paused a minute, and she looked at me with a soft expression. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For putting me first. For being patient with me. For loving me back."
"I've only ever loved myself, I figured it was time to share the wealth," I joked.
"Jerk." She swatted my arm and then yawned. Shivering a little, she curled closer to me. We were on top of the covers and there was a chill as the fine sheen of sweat that covered our bodies cooled. I didn't want to disturb Clary, but she was shaking and I desperately needed to clean myself up and dispose of the wilted condom. Reaching behind me, I found the hem of the thick blanket and sheet, soft and faded with age and use. When I managed to pull it to my shoulders, I carefully separated myself from her. Already she was practically asleep and she didn't protest as I guided the blankets out from under her so that I could properly cover her.
After that it only took me a few minutes to clean up. I buried the condom and its wrapper in the bottom of the garbage bin. We were already going to get a lecture when we saw Luke, no need to start the fireworks early. Then again, maybe he would feel better knowing we were at least responsible. After I quickly used the bathroom, I dipped back under the covers. Clary was snoring softly, her red hair a riot of curls and slightly plastered to the side of her head where her forehead was damp. Immediately she reached for me, and I knew I'd never need another home.