Page 64 of Unleashing Chaos

He shakes his head, but the flex of his jaw holding in his words says it all.

I take another step forward, obliterating the space between us. “The idea of another man’s hands on me makes you jealous, and instead of taking what I’m so freely offering you, you’re lying to me and to yourself. It’s a shame that you’ll never grow a pair and take what you want.”

I turn on my heels and leave the room, slamming the door behind me. I storm across the landing to my room and repeat the childish action. Gritting my teeth against the scream that’s threatening to erupt from my throat, I practically rip my earrings out of my ears, remove my necklace, and jerk the cover down on my bed. I start to unzip my dress and turn to the window, staring out into Jace’s room, where his curtains are wide open.

He’s sitting on the edge of his bed with his fingers tangled in his hair, and I feel some satisfaction knowing that I’ve gotten under his skin because Hades knows he’s under mine.

Unzipping my dress, I step out of it and kick it across the room. I reach around to unhook my bra and lift my gaze to the window, only to see Jace looking in my direction. Narrowing my eyes, I continue what I was doing, unsnapping the clasp and dropping the bra to the floor, leaving me in my bright-red thong.

I don’t have to look back to know he’s watching me. Every cell in my body buzzes to life, like his gaze is his fingers trailing down my spine. I continue to prepare for bed, using my powers to hang up my dress and pull out the pins that held my curls in place. Sauntering through my room in my thong, I create menial tasks—straightening a picture on the wall, leaning into my mirror to check if I have something in my teeth, and picking up a tiny scrap of paper from the floor. After my little show, I spare a side glance out the window.

Jace throws the book sitting next to him across the room and bounds to his feet. I expect him to march into his bathroom, but he flings his bedroom door open. I freeze, my heart so heavy in my chest that it weighs down my feet. Footsteps pound down the hallway, their beat oozing with pure determination. I wait for the sound of a fist hammering against my door, but it never comes.

I sigh and turn back toward the bed, about to give up on a second confrontation with him. I don’t know where he’s going, but it’s clear he isn’t coming into my room. It’s not like he can go far. He’s shirtless.

And that’s when the door bursts open and Jace hisses, “Fuck it. I lied.”

He closes the distance between us in two quick strides. His eyes burn into me, setting every inch of my naked skin on fire. I search for my voice, fighting for the words to ask him what he’s doing. But he cups my face in both his hands and presses his mouth to mine.

Every muscle in my body relaxes and I melt into him, wrapping my arms around his neck. I realize as I part my lips and open to him that he hadn’t kissed me in the art exhibit that day. I’d wanted him to ever since we stood toe to toe and argued over the laundry—when his mouth brushed mine and I felt those live sparks for the first time.

This kiss is everything I’d been waiting for. His lips move with mine like they were sculpted to fit together, and when our tongues meet, it nearly takes my breath away. He tastes like spearmint and smells like soap and sundried laundry. He is warmth and strength, and I could spend hours lost in his kisses.

“How is it that you infuriate me and turn me on all in the same breath?” he asks in a husky voice.

I gasp for air and say against his lips, “You have the exact same effect on me. That’s why I couldn’t stay away from you any longer.”

“And this little striptease you just performed, what were you hoping would come of that?” His hand slides down my spine and pauses on the small of my back. My next words will determine what he does next. Will this moment just be a kiss, or will I tell him that he needs to turn it into something more?

I don’t look away from him as I say, “This. That you would be brave enough to come in here and show me what you really want from me, Jace.”

He scrunches his face and his fingers fist at my back. “This is a terrible idea, but I’m tired of fighting it.”

Jace’s mouth falls upon my skin again and his palms slide down my ass, pulling me closer. He’s rock hard, the length of him digging into my pelvis. I follow his lead as he steps forward, and I step back. My fingers grip the hair at his nape, using it to steady my trembling legs. I fear that I’m going to stumble and rip his lips from my neck, breaking the spell he’s under. It doesn’t happen. The back of my legs hit the mattress, and he follows me down onto the fluffy blankets as I move up toward the headboard.

He holds himself over me, one arm on either side of my shoulders. Pressing against the juncture of my legs, he creates a steady rocking that hits me in just the right place. I move with him, needing that sweet friction to push me closer to the edge, to that place where I fall into oblivion and fly.

Jace kisses from one side of my neck, across my collarbone, and back up the other side. He takes his time showing attention to the sensitive spots that have me arching into him. Pulling away from my neck, he takes my breast in his palm, stroking my nipple until it’s so hard it throbs. When the stimulation becomes too much and I whimper, he drags his tongue over the peak. The warm, slick sensation drives me wild, and I grip the back of his head. He understands my silent direction and draws my nipple into his mouth.

As he sucks and nips at the delicate skin, I tug at his hair with one hand and drag my fingernails down his spine with the other, pressing him closer to me, if that’s even possible. He is everywhere all at once, consuming me until I know nothing but him. He lets go of my nipple with a pop and moves to the other. Lifting his free hand, he massages the abandoned breast, rolling the hardened peak between his thumb and forefinger.

“Fuck, Jace,” I gasp, rocking my hips with his, harder and faster by the second. My release is building so fast that it’s almost embarrassing, but I have wanted this for so long. Ever since that night after the gala, it’s him I think of every time I slide my hand between my legs.

This is everything I fantasized it would be.

“I need to taste you, Desi. Tell me to make you come with my mouth.” His words are a desperate command, spoken with a gruff voice.

I’m not sure how long he’s thought about putting his mouth on me, but it’s clear he wants nothing more in this moment. And he isn’t the only one who needs this. I am throbbing to know what it will feel like to have Jace Wilder kiss me in the most intimate of ways.

I don’t even hesitate before tugging his hair until his gaze lifts to mine. “Put your mouth on me, Jace.” I take his hand in mine and slide it between us so he can feel just how much I want him. “You do this to me. Every second of every day. I want you to taste me.”

“Fuck.” One word with so many meanings—a grateful prayer, a passion-fueled moan, a promise of what’s to come.

Jace kisses his way down my body, hooking his fingers into the sides of my panties. The closer he gets to my center, the lower the lace slides down my legs. He settles between my open thighs, kissing the inside of each before placing one leg over his shoulder. With his gaze trained on mine, he glides his tongue along my seam. Never has a toy made me feel what that single stroke does.

I let out a shuddering breath and grip his hair tighter, my other hand clutching the bedsheet next to my thigh. He doesn’t take his eyes off me as he slips his tongue in a little farther, and when my lips part on a silent gasp, his mouth turns up into the sexiest smirk.

He brings one finger to my center and runs it through my slit. “God, you are so wet. Do you have any idea how sexy you are when you’re like this? Your legs spread for me, fingers in my hair, back arching off the bed every time I touch you?”

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