16 -Take the pleasure -

"Every time you move tomorrow, I want you to be reminded that I've been here. Only me. You are mine."

I groan.

"Please, Jace," I whisper.

"What do you want, Sarah? Tell me."

I groan again. He pulls out and moves slowly back into me, circling his hips once more.

"Tell me," he murmurs.

"You, please."

He increases the rhythm infinitesimally, and his breathing becomes more erratic. My insides start quickening, and Jace picks up the rhythm.

"You. Are. So. Fucking. Sweet," he murmurs between each thrust. "I. Want. You. So. Much."

I moan.

"You. Are. Mine. Come for me, baby," he growls.

His words are my undoing, tipping me over the precipice. My body convulses around him, and I come, loudly calling out a garbled version of his name into the mattress, and Jace follows with two sharp thrusts, and he freezes, pouring himself into me as he finds his release. He collapses on top of me, his face in my hair.

"Fuck. Sarry," he breathes. He pulls out of me immediately and rolls onto his side of the bed. I pull my knees up to my chest, utterly spent, and immediately drift off or pass out into an exhausted sleep.

..

When I wake, it's still dark. I have no idea how long I've slept. I stretch out beneath the duvet, and I feel sore, deliciously sore.

Jace is nowhere to be seen. I sit up, staring out at the cityscape in front of me. There are fewer lights on amongst the skyscrapers, and there's a whisper of dawn in the east.

I put on his grey sleeve shirt ,reaching to my lap and quietly pad down the corridor toward the big room.

Jace is at the Dinner table , completely lost in his phone . His expression is sad and forlorn.

His Frown is stunning. Leaning against the wall at the entrance, I looked at him enraptured. He's such an accomplished young man.

He sits naked, his body bathed in the warm light cast by a solitary freestanding lamp beside the dinner table . With the rest of the large room in darkness, it's like he's in his own isolated little pool of light, untouchable… lonely, in a bubble.

I'm mesmerized watching his long skilled fingers as they find and gently press the keyboard of the phone , thinking how

those same fingers have expertly handled and caressed my body.

I flush and gasp at the memory and press my thighs together. He glances up, his unfathomable neon eyes bright, his expression unreadable.

"Sorry," I whisper. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

A frown flits across his face.

"Surely, I should be saying that to you," he murmurs. He finishes doing what so ever he's doing on his phone and put the phone down  and his hands on his legs.

I notice now that he's wearing PJ pants. He runs his fingers through his hair and stands. His pants hang from his hips, in that way… oh my. My mouth goes dry as he casually strolls around the table toward me.

He has broad shoulders, narrow hips, and his abdominal muscles ripple as he walks. He really is stunning.

"You should be in bed," he admonishes.

His lips quirk up in a half smile.

"Bed," he orders. "You'll be exhausted in the morning."

"I woke and you weren't there."

"I find it difficult to sleep, and I'm not used to sleeping with anyone, except-," he paused  and murmurs. I can't fathom his mood.

He seems a little despondent, but it's difficult to tell in the darkness. He puts his arm around me and gently walks me back to the bedroom.

"How long have you been up? You look beautifully sexy."

"Since Nine o'clock ."

"Oh." Jace … my mind conjures an image of a beautiful, copper-haired little boy with neon eyes and my heart melts.

"How are you feeling?" he asks when we are back in the room. He switches on a sidelight.

"I'm good."

We both glance down at the bed at the same time. There's blood on the sheets – evidence of my lost virginity. I flush, embarrassed, pulling the duvet tighter around me.

"Well, that's going to give Mrs. Claudia something to think about," Jace mutters as he stands in front of me. He puts his hand under my chin and tips my head back, staring down at me.

His eyes are intense as he examines my face. I realize he was looking  deeply at me. Instinctively, I reach out to run my fingers through the smattering of dark hair on his chest to see how it feels.

Immediately, he grab me with a spine and we both fall on the bed.

"Get into bed," he says sharply. "I'll come and lie down with you." His voice softens.

He opens a chest of drawers and pulls out a t-shirt and quickly slips it on.

"Bed," he orders again. I climb back onto the bed, trying not to think about the blood. He clambers in beside me and pulls me into his embrace,

wrapping his arms around me so that I'm facing away from him. He kisses my hair gently, and he inhales deeply.

"Sleep, sweet Sarry," he murmurs, and I close my eyes, but I can't help feel his demeanor. Jace Alicanté has a sad side.

The way he goes angry about little things at time,  dang.

"Good night" I commented.

"Good night "Sarry,  sleep tight.

.

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