Chapter 2: Sun-Kissed Sin and a Stolen Handful
The late afternoon sun had dipped lower, painting the Cunninghams' massive backyard in molten gold. The raucous pool party energy had faded, replaced by a drowsy hum. Most guests had drifted inside or departed. Britney and Shay had finally peeled themselves away from flirting with the baseball team, shooting Vera exaggerated winks and whispering “Get it!” before disappearing into the house. Vera remained near the pool, the cool water lapping at the edge just inches from her toes. She could still feel the phantom pressure of Caleb’s hand on her knee, the cloying scent of his cheap cologne lingering unpleasantly in her memory. But it was the intensity of Jace’s hazel gaze, the low rumble of his threat, that vibrated under her skin now. Protective fury. Raw. Uncompromising. It had ignited something else inside her, a reckless heat burning away the remnants of fear Caleb had left behind.
She stood beside the private cabana tucked at the far end of the pool deck, its striped curtains drawn against the world. The air was thick and warm, heavy with the scent of chlorine and blooming jasmine. Without overthinking, driven by a surge of defiant need, Vera reached for the hem of her simple sundress. She lifted it slowly over her head, letting the soft fabric pool at her feet. The setting sun kissed her bare skin – pale vanilla, almost luminous against the deepening shadows. Cool air brushed over her small, perfect breasts, hardening her nipples into tight peaks. It ghosted over the intricate spiderwebs tattooed on each side of her underbust, down the smooth plane of her stomach, and over the stars inked along the dip of her v-line. She stood there, gloriously naked, letting the warmth soak into her bones, feeling a freedom she hadn't known since before Caleb.
A rustle. The scrape of a curtain ring.
Vera didn't jump. She turned, a slow, deliberate movement, knowing exactly who she’d find.
Jace stood silhouetted in the opening of the cabana. He must have just finished a punishing set of weights; sweat sheened his torso, making the dense tapestry of tattoos on his neck, chest, shoulders, and arms glisten like wet ink. His black hair was damp, pushed back messily. His worn grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, but it was impossible to miss the thick, rigid outline tenting the fabric obscenely. His deep hazel eyes, usually sharp and assessing, were dilated, darkening as they raked over her naked form. They lingered on her hard nipples, traced the curves of her hips, and dropped, hot and heavy, to the slick heat glistening between her thighs.
A slow, sinful smile curved Vera’s lips. She took a step towards him, the cool concrete rough under her bare feet. "This what happens when you spy on me, big boy?" Her voice was low, husky, challenging.
Jace didn't move from the doorway, his gaze locked on her. A muscle ticked in his jaw. "Wasn’t spyin', Firefly," he rasped, the nickname he’d called her since she was a kid falling rough from his smoke-roughened throat now. "Was checkin' you weren't bein' harassed again. Seems you're doin' just fine." His eyes dipped again, hungrily, to the apex of her thighs.
Vera closed the distance until she stood right before him, the heat radiating off his massive frame enveloping her. She looked up, way up, meeting his burning gaze. Deliberately, she slid her small hand beneath the loose waistband of his sweats. His stomach muscles clenched hard under her touch. Her fingers pushed lower, past coarse hair, and found the thick, hot steel of his cock. It pulsed violently against her palm.
She fisted it, her fingers barely meeting around his girth. Hot skin. Veins like cords. She circled the swollen, leaking head with her thumb, smearing the bead of precum down his shaft. It felt massive, primal, impossibly hard.
Jace sucked in a sharp, ragged breath. His hips jerked forward instinctively, fucking into her tight grip. A low, guttural groan tore from his chest, raw and animalistic. "Fuck, Vera..."
"Gonna punish me?" she whispered, her other hand sliding up his sweat-slicked chest, feeling the intricate scrollwork and symbols beneath her fingertips, tracing the hard ridge of his collarbone. "For touching what’s not mine?" Her green eyes held his, daring him, the challenge laced with a heat that mirrored his own.
Something snapped in Jace’s expression. The restraint vanished, replaced by pure, predatory hunger. "Mine?" The word was a growl. In one fluid, powerful motion, he hooked an arm around her waist and yanked her into the shadowy confines of the cabana. The curtain fell shut behind them, plunging them into warm, intimate gloom scented with chlorine and his sweat.
He didn’t kiss her. He spun her around, pressing her front against the cool woven fabric of the cabana wall. His massive body covered hers, pinning her, radiating heat. One big hand tangled in her long, wavy black hair, not painfully, but possessively, angling her head slightly. The other hand, calloused and ink-covered, slid down her spine, tracing the phases of the moon tattooed there, down to the swell of her ass.
"Hold on," he commanded, his breath hot on her ear.
Before she could process it, his hand left her ass and dipped between her legs from behind. Two thick fingers slid through her slick folds, finding her clit instantly. He circled it, hard and fast, with bruising pressure.
Vera cried out, arching back against him. "Oh God! Jace!"
"Not God," he growled, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of her neck. His fingers plunged into her pussy without warning, filling her deep. He fucked her with them roughly, relentlessly, the heel of his palm grinding against her clit. "Just the bastard who's gonna ruin this tight little cunt for anyone else." His voice was filthy, dark with promise. "Feel that? Feel how fuckin' wet you are for me? Drippin' down my fingers."
She was. Her inner muscles clamped down on his invading fingers, slickness coating his hand. She whimpered, pushing back against him, craving more, harder. The sensation was overwhelming, lightning shooting up her spine. "Yes! Fuck, yes! More!"
He added a third finger, stretching her impossibly wider. The stretch burned, deliciously. He curled his fingers inside her, finding that spot. "Right there, huh?" he rasped, hammering against it. "That sweet spot. Bet you come like a fuckin' freight train when it's hit just right." He pinched her clit hard between his thumb and forefinger at the same time.
Vera shattered. A raw scream tore from her throat as her orgasm crashed through her, violent and consuming. Her legs trembled, her pussy convulsing wildly around his fingers, drenching his hand. Stars exploded behind her eyelids.
Jace held her through it, his grip on her hair firm, his fingers still buried deep inside her pulsing cunt, drawing out the aftershocks. He murmured dark praise against her neck. "Good girl. Took that like a fuckin' champion. Soaked my whole fuckin' hand. Now..."
He withdrew his fingers slowly, the wet sound obscenely loud in the small space. She felt his massive presence shift behind her. The rip of fabric. He tore his sweatpants down just enough. Then she felt the blunt, insistent pressure of his cockhead, slick with her own arousal and his precum, nudging against her swollen entrance. It felt impossibly large, stretching her rim just with the tip.
"Gonna take this cock now," he stated, no question, pure command. His voice was thick with lust. "All of it. Gonna fuck you raw. Gonna make you scream my name so loud your fuck