Chapter 28: Clary's on her way to Idris and already trying to forget Jace. Sigh. Good luck with that. A long ten hour flight with Jonathan…that's a lot of time for him to mess with her head. Jerk.
I do not own any of the characters, only the illustrious Cassandra Clare owns them. I do, however, own this particular story, so please don't be lame and copy/paste it elsewhere.
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Previously: "Loving you is not the problem, Jace. I do love you. So much it hurts. But, maybe love isn't enough."
Clary settled back into the sofa on the Morgenstern private jet. While Clary was no stranger to wealth, the extravagance of the jet was a little out of her comfort zone. There was a full bar, sofa, passenger chairs, and even a private bedroom. Where's the ballroom? She turned the page of the catalog, detailing Valentine's inventory of her mother's art, smiled and shook her head. She felt a thrill of excitement and her smile widened. In just ten hours she would be in Idris. She would finally get to see and touch her mother's works…there were hundreds. It would almost be like seeing her again, in a way. So many of them were painted or drawn before she was so famous, some before Clary was born. Clary was grateful that Valentine had kept all of Jocelyn's art, after she left him. It must have been difficult for mom to leave all of them behind. I miss her so much. I really could have used your advice lately, mom… and a hug.
Clary's mind went back to earlier, when she ended things with Jace and her stomach twisted. The pain was still so fresh. The hurt on his face…that last kiss. Clary shook her head. Stop. I hope I did the right thing. I just need to push it all aside for now. I love him…but I have to be done with him for now or I will fucking lose it. I need him out of my system somehow. Work. Work and stay busy. That's how. Clary envisioned wrapping all of the love, hurt, and fear from the past few weeks in tissue paper and placed it in a lockbox, in her mind. After she lost her parents, she had attended grief counseling. One of the coping mechanisms she learned was to visualize putting her triggers away for later. It had helped her deal with the trauma of their loss and she hoped it would help with Jace as well. She planned to wrap it up and put it back in the box whenever it came back. I'll deal with it when I have to…in three months. She picked up her second vodka martini and finished it. Maybe this will help too.
They had been flying for over two hours and Jonathan was at the bar, opening a bottle of champagne to celebrate their trip, even though they had already had a few cocktails. Clary loved his positive attitude. I wish I could bottle that. I could use some. She smiled at her friend, who looked up from his work, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at her. He's so cute…and I am finally buzzed. Good.
Jonathan had picked her up in a limo, with Axel driving, to go to the airport. On the way, she told him everything about what she had learned from Jace and Alec. He had been shocked to hear of Jace's drugging incident with Carrie. He had asked if it made her feel differently about the violent confrontation and assault she had with Jace in the VIP room. Hearing someone call it that, a "violent confrontation… assault" made her shudder. Jonathan had noticed her reaction and told her that what happened to her was exactly that, an assault and Jace doesn't deserve a pass. No one else had called it that. Clary swallowed. He's right, though. She tearfully told him that it did not… that she felt traumatized and afraid, and that she had been forced to end things with Jace because of it. Regardless of what she told Jace, she also still felt angry by what happened with Carrie. Rationally, she knew he was drugged and confused…but irrationally, she felt betrayed. She felt cheated on. Couple that with his violence…his assault, as Jonathan said, when she tried to get away from him…she needed time to heal. Alone.
Jonathan had wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly, telling her that he was sorry for her pain and would be there for her. Clary had relaxed and melted into his embrace, thankful for the comfort. It was nice to have someone who wasn't a part of the same circle as Jace to talk to. Besides Simon, almost every one of her friends were close to Jace as well. Which made Clary wary of how much she was willing to share about her true feelings of… her assault. Jace may have not been in his right mind, but she was afraid of him now. I need time to heal.
Clary was shaken from her thoughts by a pretty, blonde flight attendant setting a platter of assorted fruits, nuts, cheeses, and meats before her. She then disappeared to the front of the plane. Poof. Jonathan sat down next to her, sliding the catalog out of her hand and putting it on the table. Clary looked over at him and tilted her head. He looked handsome, as usual, with his messy-on-purpose white blonde hair. He wore a long sleeved black button down shirt, unbuttoned enough to show his pale, toned chest…and a few tattoos?... faded jeans, and a pair of black combat boots. His silver Morgenstern ring glinted as he picked up a few strawberries and dropped them into the champagne glasses. I don't remember him wearing that before. Clary thought back to New Year's Eve when he had put strawberries in their glasses. She had really enjoyed their carefree night together…what I can remember, anyway.
Turning to face her, Jonathan stared at Clary thoughtfully. What is he thinking? He swirled the liquid in his glass, then reached out and gently cupped her cheek. "I see you over here lamenting, possibly regretting your decisions, Clarissa. I can feel your sadness across the room, love." Clary looked into his dark eyes and smiled tightly. Ugh. I hate being so easily read. Jonathan always seems to know exactly what to say.
Jonathan lightly stroked her cheek with his thumb and ran his eyes over her face and down the front of her, to her exposed wrists. Shit. Don't cry. Clary looked away from him and set her champagne on the table, and rubbed her sore, bruised wrists, self consciously. Jonathan followed her hands with his eyes, set his glass on the table and gingerly took her hands in his, sliding her sleeves up higher. He sighed heavily and shook his head. Raising her wrist to his mouth, he placed feather-light kisses on the bruises, looking up at her through his lashes. Clary shivered and blushed, shocked at the tenderness. His lips are so soft. Stop. You're tipsy, ho.
Jonathan sat back and took a deep breath, sliding his hands up her arms. "Are there more bruises, Clarissa? I suspect there are. Detective Lightwood and I— when we found you, during the attack, it seemed likely. I remember the scratches… do they hurt, love?" Clary shivered and settled her hand above her left breast and nodded. She shifted the neck of her sweater to her left shoulder and pulled it down, exposing the top of her left breast, but leaving her bra covered. Jonathan's eyes seemed to darken and he hovered his right hand over the still angry scratches that marred her chest, as if he wanted to caress them. Clary could feel the heat of his palm over the tender skin.
Clary stared intently at Jonathan's hand, her lips parting. "Jon–" What is he doing…why can't I move? He hummed, and lightly tugged the sweater further down her shoulder, baring the purple bruises around the top of her arm. She turned her head and looked down at her arm and blushed. I'm so embarrassed. He exhaled shakily and leaned forward, brushing his lips over the bruises on her arm. Shit. He smells good…spicy. Clary felt her lower abdomen clench with desire and she gasped. What the fuck is wrong with me? Jonathan raised his eyebrows and looked at her speculatively, before slowly sitting back up. He looked down at the scratches and gently pulled her sweater back up and smoothed his hand over her shoulder.
"Love shouldn't hurt so much, Clarissa. You deserve better than bruises, lies, and fear. I'm going to make it my mission to help you understand exactly what you deserve, love." Clary swallowed and looked up into his smoldering dark eyes. "And what do I deserve, Jonathan?" Clary felt the alcohol buzz, making her bolder.
He reached forward, taking her braid in his hand. He pulled the tie off the end, slowly unbraided her hair and combed his hand through it. Clary watched him curiously. She knew Jonathan fancied her. But didn't realize he was so serious. "You deserve to be worshiped as the Idrian queen you are, Clarissa… you deserve the chance to become who you should have. Who you deserve to be. I want to help you do that. I want– to be there with you."
Clary jumped when Jonathan laughed suddenly, breaking the serious tone of the moment. "Well that got a little too deep too fast, love." He leaned forward and scooped their champagne glasses up, handing one to Clary. She accepted the glass and laughed nervously, running her hand back through her hair and shaking it around her shoulders. She took a deep breath, glad for the break in tension… sexual tension? She looked at the bubbles swirling around the rich red strawberries in her glass, remembering their fun night full of laughing, toasts, dancing. That may have been the last time I was happy. "Love shouldn't hurt so much." He's right. Clary felt tired. Tired of drama, tired of fighting. Tired of…being protected…lied to for her own good. I want to have fun and I will. I'm tired of feeling so vulnerable.
She leaned in closer to him, kissed his cheek, and smiled, whispering. "You know what, Jon? You are right. I'm ready to explore who I could have been… my legacy. Cheers to new beginnings." He looked into her eyes and smiled, clinked their glasses together. "New beginnings, indeed, love."
Jonathan pulled Clary onto his lap, her bare, creamy thighs straddling him. Gripping her hips, he pushed her skirt up, bunching it around her waist, then slid his hands around her ass, squeezing. "I want you now, Clarissa." He smashed his lips against hers. Clary gasped and opened her mouth, moaning as he pushed his tongue inside. Mmm… strawberries and champagne. Clary rolled her hips hypnotically against his arousal, as he snaked his hands up her sweater and ripped it over her head. Jonathan deftly unhooked her bra, freeing her round breasts. He ran his eyes over her flat stomach and up to her naked breasts, cupping them, nipping them, sucking them. Mine… "Yes, Jon… like that." Clary moaned, her face nuzzling his neck, licking and kissing, as her hands worked the button of his jeans, freeing his hard cock. She wrapped a hand around him and gasped, then rubbed her lips across his ear, whispering. "Oh Jon…your cock feels so big. I don't know if it will fit in my tight little pussy…you may just ruin me for any other man"
Jonathan's eyes flew wide, he growled, his cock twitching at her filthy language. He scooped her up and laid her down. "Let's find out, shall we, love?" Shoving down his jeans and boxers, he climbed on top of her nestling his hips between her legs. Jonathan shuddered with want, feeling her wetness against him through her silky panties. He moved his mouth up and down her neck, sucking, licking, marking, as he slid his quivering hand beneath her panties, cupping her soft, naked mound. "Jonathan, please… now." Clary moaned into his ear, her hips rolling against his hand as he slipped two fingers into her tight, excited heat. So fucking tight. Shit. He pumped them roughly in and out of her velvet sheath, while rubbing her clit with the pad of his thumb, eliciting excited mewls and moans from her, as her dripping muscles gripped his fingers. "Oh Jonathan…I need you inside of me– all of you…"
Groaning, he slipped his fingers out, gripped her panties and tore them away from where he most desired to be. Unzipping her skirt, he quickly ripped it down her legs, as Clary squealed. Jonathan smirked down at Clary, his eyes boring into her emeralds, then looked further down between them. He pushed his hips forward, watching as his swollen cock prodded her moist opening. Clary moaned, spread her legs further apart in anticipation, wiggling wantonly. Finally mine, Jonathan thought to himself as he pressed a tender kiss to her lips and thrust inside of her silken heat. Clary threw her head back and– "Jon…Jon? Jonathan Morgenstern, wake up…"
Jonathan's eyes opened, blinking, the beautiful face of Clarissa Fray slowly came into focus. Oh fuck…it was just a dream. He was laying on the sofa, with his feet in Clary's lap. They had talked for hours after their toast to "New Beginnings". They discussed art, traveling, what movies Jonathan had to see…he must have dozed off. Clary tickled the bottom of his feet and he jumped. "Hey Jon. Sorry to wake you, but it seems we'll be in Idris within the hour, per the captain. He recommended we find our seats and prepare for landing." Clary smiled at him and blushed. "What were you dreaming about? You were moaning…and–" She giggled and pointed down. Oh shit.
Jonathan looked down to see he had a raging boner. He sat up quickly and placed his feet on the floor, smirking at her. "Why Clarissa…aren't you the curious little kitten." Clary squealed as he pulled her across the sofa onto his lap. Wrapping his arms around her, he whispered in her ear. "Shall I show you what I was dreaming about, Clarissa? Perhaps you can help me with my problem…" She laughed nervously and quickly disentangled herself from him and hopped into a single passenger seat. She bit her lip and blushed furiously. "I have a better idea, Jon. Why don't you go to the bathroom and deal with your problem yourself." Touché . Kitten has claws. I like it. Jonathan laughed and so did Clary. She thinks I'm joking. This is going to be so much fun, he thought to himself.
Jonathan moved to the passenger seat next to Clary's, as they entered Idrian airspace. She took his hand in hers and beamed out the window. "Oh Jonathan. I simply cannot tell you how excited I am. I can't wait for the snow to melt, so I can see it all." He grinned at her and his heart began to quicken with pride. "You shall see it all, Clarissa. I'll make sure of it." Giddy, he pointed out Brocelind Plain, the great Brocelind Forest, beautiful Lake Lyn, the bustling capital city of Alicante, sprawling snowy lands, towns, and mountains surrounding their tiny country. Home. He finally had her home… For good, if I have my way.