Chapter 15: Reclaiming What's His
The loft settled into that fragile, sacred quiet that only comes when an infant finally surrenders to sleep. Matthew’s soft, rhythmic breaths were barely audible over the distant city hum filtering through the large windows. Hercules lay sprawled on his side near the sleeping bassinet, one eye cracked open, ever the vigilant guardian. Vera sagged against the worn arm of the sofa, exhaustion a tangible weight pulling at her bones. Her left hand rested on her thigh, the cool platinum band of the engagement ring pressing against her skin, the tiny black triangle tattoo beside it still slightly tender. It had been weeks since they’d truly been alone, weeks since the demands of a newborn had eclipsed everything else.
Jace moved with a predator’s silence, a dark shape against the fading afternoon light. One moment he was standing near the window, rolling the tension out of his broad shoulders, the intricate ink on his arms shifting like living shadows. The next, he was on her. His massive hands, warm and rough, landed on her hips, lifting her off the sofa cushion like she weighed nothing. Her startled gasp was swallowed by his mouth as he crushed his lips to hers. The kiss wasn't gentle. It was demanding, hungry, a reclaiming. His tongue swept against hers, tasting faintly of the cigarette he’d smoked minutes ago, a bitter tang beneath the spearmint.
"Fuck, missed this," he growled against her lips, his voice low and gravelly. "Missed you." One hand slid up her back, fingers tangling in her thick, wavy black hair, pulling her head back just enough to deepen the kiss. The other hand slid down, under the thin fabric of her sleep shorts, his thumb brushing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, achingly close to where she was already beginning to warm for him.
He walked her backwards, never breaking the kiss, until the backs of her knees hit the edge of the wide mattress they’d dragged into the living area for easier nighttime access. He pushed. She fell back onto the soft duvet, the air whooshing from her lungs. Before she could catch her breath, he was over her, his knees pressing her legs apart, his immense frame caging her in. The sheer size of him, the primal intent in his deep hazel eyes, sent a jolt of pure adrenaline mixed with desperate need straight to her core. His gaze raked down her body – the tank top riding up to expose the spiderwebs tattooed on her ribs, the slight softness of her stomach still adjusting after Matthew's birth, the curve of her hips disappearing into her shorts. His look was pure possession, dark and appreciative.
"Gonna take it slow, princess," he rasped, the promise rough-edged and thrilling. But the heat in his eyes, the way his large hands immediately slid under the waistband of her shorts and underwear, dragging them down her legs in one swift, impatient motion, belied his words. Cool air hit her damp skin, making her shiver. He tossed the fabric aside, his eyes locking onto her exposed cunt. Her folds glistened, already slick with arousal, the scent of her filling the small space between them.
He didn't hesitate. He growled, a low, animal sound vibrating in his chest, and buried his face between her thighs.
The first rough swipe of his tongue, broad and hot, from her opening all the way up to her clit, made her cry out. Her back arched off the mattress, her hands flying to his head, fingers threading through his short black hair, gripping hard. "Jace!"
"Shh, baby," he murmured against her, his breath scalding her wet flesh. "Don't wake the tiny terror." His tongue delved again, lapping at her slit with deliberate, firm strokes. He circled her entrance, pressing in slightly, tasting her deeply before swirling ruthlessly around her swollen clit. His stubble scraped the tender skin of her inner thighs, a delicious friction against the incredible heat of his mouth. He was relentless, devouring her like a man starved, his nose bumping against her pubic bone, his tongue working magic.
He hooked his arms under her thighs, lifting her hips higher, spreading her wider, opening her completely to his assault. The angle was deeper, more intense. He sucked her clit hard into his mouth, flicking it rapidly with the tip of his tongue, then flattening it again, applying pressure that made stars burst behind her closed eyelids. She could feel the wetness pooling, hear the obscene, slick sounds of his mouth on her cunt. He groaned against her, the vibration rippling through her entire body, winding her tighter and tighter.
"Yeah, fuck, that's it," he growled, pulling back for a second, his chin glistening with her arousal. "Taste so fucking good, Vera. Like mine." He dove back in, even hungrier, his tongue spearing inside her, fucking her with short, hard thrusts before returning to torture her clit. His fingers, thick and calloused, joined the assault, sliding easily through her wetness to circle her tight entrance. One finger pressed in, slowly, stretching her, filling her as his tongue continued its relentless rhythm on her clit.
The dual sensation was dizzying. The rough texture of his finger inside her, the insistent, wet heat of his mouth. Her hips bucked, grinding against his face, seeking more, harder. He added a second finger, crooking them, finding that spot deep inside that made her gasp his name, a broken sound. Her body trembled violently, caught between the exquisite torture of his fingers and the relentless suction of his mouth. She could feel the pressure building, deep and unstoppable, coiling low in her belly. Her knuckles turned white where she gripped his hair.
"Jace... oh god... please..." she whimpered, her voice thick with need, her legs shaking uncontrollably around his head.
He responded by sucking her clit harder, his fingers pumping faster, deeper, hitting that spot with unerring precision. The coil snapped. Pleasure detonated through her, a white-hot shockwave that ripped a raw, guttural cry from her throat. Her body convulsed, back bowing off the bed, hips slamming up against his face as her cunt clenched rhythmically around his fingers. Warmth gushed over his chin, soaking his stubble, dripping onto the sheets below as she squirted hard, the force of her orgasm taking her by surprise. Wave after wave crashed over her, leaving her gasping, twitching, completely overwhelmed.
Jace held her through it, his mouth gentling, lapping softly at her throbbing clit, drawing out the shudders until she finally collapsed back onto the mattress, boneless and trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He lifted his head, his lips wet and swollen, his chin glistening, a satisfied, possessive smirk playing on his face as he looked down at her flushed, wrecked expression. He slowly withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean, his eyes never leaving hers, dark with hunger only partially sated.
"Fucking beautiful," he rasped, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. He shifted his weight, his massive body settling fully over hers, the hard ridge of his erection straining against the rough denim of his jeans, pressing insistently against her still-quivering mound. "Told you I'd take it slow," he breathed, leaning down to capture her lips again, letting her taste herself on his tongue. "My turn now." The promise in his low voice sent a fresh shiver of anticipation down her spine, cutting through the haze of her release. Her body, already humming from his touch, was ready for more.
Her body still pulsed from the explosive climax, every nerve ending sparking like live wires against the lingering wet heat between her thighs. Jace’s weight pressed her deliciously into the mattress, the hard ridge of his cock grinding against her sensitive flesh through the abrasive denim. His kiss was deep, possessive, tasting of her arousal and his spearmint gum – a primal claiming that ignited fresh heat low in her belly.
"Fuck, Jace," she breathed against his mouth, her hips lifting instinctively, seeking friction. "Need you."
He broke the kiss, his hazel eyes dark and predatory, fixed on hers. "Yeah? Need this cock inside you, princess?" His voice was a low growl that vibrated through her chest. He shifted his hips, the thick outline of his erection pressing harder against her still-quivering cunt. "Tell me."
Her hand slid down his stomach, fumbling with the button of his jeans. "Yes. Now. Please." The desperation in her own voice surprised her, raw and urgent. His large hand covered hers, rough fingers dwarfing her own, helping her pop the button. The zipper rasped down, a harsh sound in the quiet loft, broken only by Matthew’s soft snores and Hercules’s heavy breathing.
He shoved the denim and his boxer briefs down his hips just enough, his cock springing free, thick and already slick at the tip. It was heavy in her small hand, hot velvet over steel. She gave it a slow, firm stroke, feeling him tense above her, a guttural groan rumbling from his chest. "Christ, Vera," he hissed, his hips jerking forward.
He caught her wrist, pulling her hand away. "Nuh-uh. My turn." His grip on her hips was bruising as he hauled her upright, pulling her off the mattress. Her bare feet hit the cool wood floor. Before she could get her balance, he was turning her, spinning her towards the massive windows overlooking the city street below, the late afternoon light casting long shadows.
Her palms flattened instinctively against the cool glass as he pressed against her back, his massive frame enveloping her, blotting out the fading light. His cock slid through her slick folds, finding her entrance, nudging insistently. The contrast – the chill of the window on her front, the scorching heat of him at her back, the view of oblivious pedestrians milling below – sent a jolt of illicit thrill straight to her core.
"Look at you," he breathed hotly against her ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her neck. One hand slid down her stomach, calloused fingers parting her folds, exposing her swollen clit. He circled it roughly, sending sharp sparks of pleasure-pain through her. "Gonna fuck you right here. Let the whole fucking city see who owns this sweet cunt." His other hand came up, tangling in her hair, pulling her head back against his shoulder. "Say it."
"Yours," she gasped, the glass fogging slightly under her breath. "All yours, Jace. Fuck me."
He didn't hesitate. With a grunt, he drove his cock into her hard, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. The sudden, deep stretch stole her breath, a sharp cry escaping her lips before she stifled it, biting her lip. He filled her completely, stretching her deliciously tight, the heat and friction immediate and overwhelming. He held himself there for a heartbeat, buried deep, both hands now gripping her hips like vices.
"Fuck, so goddamn tight," he groaned, his forehead dropping to her shoulder, his breath ragged against her skin. "Like a fucking fist."
Then he began to move. Short, sharp pulls back, then savage drives forward, slamming his hips against her ass with jarring force. Each thrust hammered deep, the head of his cock grinding against that spot that made her vision blur. The sound was obscene – the wet slap of flesh on flesh, the low grunts ripped from his throat punctuating each powerful drive.
His hand left her hip, snaking around her front again, fingers finding her clit. He rubbed tight, quick circles, counterpoint to the deep, punishing rhythm of his cock. Pleasure coiled, impossibly tight, low in her belly, amplified by the danger, the exposure, the sheer animal force of him. She was pinned, vulnerable and exposed against the glass, utterly at his mercy. The cold surface contrasted sharply with the burning heat radiating from her own skin and his body pressed flush against her back.
"Feel me, Vera," he growled, his voice thick, strained. "Feel how deep I am? How fucking deep this cock owns you?" His thrusts became more erratic, harder, driving her forward against the glass with every powerful snap of his hips. His fingers worked her clit furiously. "Gonna come. Gonna fill this perfect fucking cunt up."
The pressure inside her snapped. Her orgasm hit like a detonation, tearing through her with violent intensity. Her inner walls clamped down hard on his cock in rhythmic pulses, milking him. A raw, strangled cry tore from her throat as her body convulsed against the window, her knuckles white where she pressed against the glass. The world dissolved into white-hot sensation – the relentless thrusts, the rough fingers on her clit, the hard line of his body pinning her, the cool, unyielding surface against her flushed skin.
Her climax triggered his. With a final, guttural roar muffled against her shoulder, he slammed into her one last time, deep and grinding. She felt the hot, thick pulse of his release deep inside her, filling her, a primal claim echoing the ink on her finger. He shuddered violently, his hips jerking erratically, holding himself buried to the root as he emptied himself. They stayed locked together, breathing harshly, slick with sweat, pressed against the window overlooking the awakening city lights.
He slowly softened inside her, his weight heavy, his breath hot on her neck. His hand, still slick from her arousal, slid possessively over her hip, down her trembling thigh. "Fuck," he breathed, the word rough but satisfied. "Mine." His lips brushed the tender skin beneath her ear. "Always."