Page 15 of Mistletoe and Magic

As he rinsed the final dish, he turned to her, his gaze lingering on her face as if memorizing every detail. The kitchen was clean, the remnants of their dinner nothing more than a pleasant memory, but the hunger in his eyes spoke of a different kind of appetite.

"Thank you for dinner," Felicity murmured, her voice almost lost in the charged silence that hummed between them.

"Thank you for having me," he replied, stepping closer until she could feel the heat radiating from him, the scent of his skin mixed with the herbs from the sauce. His proximity was overwhelming, yet she stood rooted to the spot, captured by the intensity in his gaze.

Their eyes held and the air seemed to thicken with anticipation. Felicity's thoughts scattered like loose pages in thewind. This was the moment stories were born from—a meeting of souls on the cusp of surrendering to the unknown.

Jace leaned down, his breath warm against her cheek, and whispered, "There's something about you, Felicity, that draws me like a moth to a flame."

Before she could respond, his lips were on hers, gentle at first, a question asked in the softest of touches. But as she responded, the kiss deepened, grew more insistent, and the world tilted on its axis. Felicity closed her eyes and let herself be pulled into the orbit of Jace Winterborne, where everything was passion, warmth, and the kind of connection that could inspire a thousand novels. If all she got with him was this one moment in time, she would remember it always and would dedicate her novels to Jace with no other indication of who or what he was to her.

Jace's grip on her hands remained firm and steadfast, a lifeline anchoring Felicity in the unexpected current of emotion that swirled between them. Her pulse fluttered like a caged bird against her skin, every beat an echo of the strange, burgeoning connection that seemed to pull her closer to him with an invisible thread.

With a gentle tug, Jace lessened the space between them, his eyes searching hers for a sign, any indication of her willingness. She responded, her lips parting ever so slightly, and the kiss deepened, igniting into a blaze of passion that swept through her like a wildfire.

Their mouths moved together in a dance as old as time, yet fresh and new in its discovery. The taste of red wine still lingered on Jace's lips, mingling with the essence of bold spices from the pasta, creating a heady blend that intoxicated Felicity more than any vintage could. His warmth enveloped her, the heat of his body seeping into her very bones and branding her with an urgent need she couldn't deny.

As they finally parted, gasping for air, the world seemed to realign itself, leaving a charged silence in its wake. Jace's eyes, those deep pools of green that reflected both the wildness of the valley and the depth of his soul, held her captive.

"Felicity," he breathed out, his voice thick with emotion, "I know it's crazy—we only met this morning. But there's something about you... It's like I've always known you." His fingers stroked her cheek, a touch feather-light yet laden with unspoken promises. "All my life, I've been searching, and now... I think I may have found what I never even knew I was looking for."

The confession hung in the air, a fragile truth laid bare. Here, in her cozy flat, with the remnants of dinner still lingering on the table and the soft glow of twilight caressing their skin, she felt the last vestiges of her resolve melt away. For the first time in what felt like eternity, Felicity allowed herself to lean into the vulnerability, to savor the sweet ache of desire, and to acknowledge the possibility that here in this reality that she found herself, she might have just discovered an unforeseen refuge in the tempest of the life she had left behind.

The silence that followed Jace's confession was thick with the weight of unspoken questions and burgeoning desire. Felicity's heart thrummed a wild rhythm, her mind teetering on the precipice of reason and want. She stood, her movements deliberate yet fluid as she drew him towards her bedroom, as if drawn by an invisible thread woven through the charged air between them. With each step toward her bed, she shed layers of doubt, leaving them behind like fallen leaves.

Her bedroom welcomed them with its muted light and the scent of lavender that always lingered in the soft sheets. The large cast iron bed, a silent witness to her solitary nights, now beckoned with a promise of shared warmth and whispered secrets.

Jace followed her lead, his presence a grounding force amidst the storm of emotions threatening to sweep Felicity away. He reached for the hem of her sweater, his fingers brushing against her skin with reverence. As he undressed her, each garment discarded was a testament to the trust she vested in him—a trust that felt as ancient as the stars, yet as new and fragile as the first bloom of spring.

His lips traced the path of newly revealed skin, igniting fires along her collarbone, down the valley of her chest, and across the curve of her waist. Every kiss was a wordless vow, every touch a chapter in the novel of their entwined fates. She was naked before him, bare in more ways than one, her vulnerability cloaked only in the soft glow that danced across her skin.

Jace guided her with gentle hands to lie upon the bed, the antique quilt beneath her whispering tales of yesteryear. She watched, a mixture of wonder and anticipation swirling within her, as he shed his own clothes with a quiet confidence. His body, a landscape of strength and scars, was a map she yearned to explore, to know as well as she knew her favorite passages from beloved books.

As he joined her in the bed, the world outside faded into obscurity. There was nothing but Jace’s body next to hers, speaking the language of longing and connection. In this intimate space, time was a forgotten concept, and all that mattered was the here and now—her heart seemed to beat in unison with his as she began to embark on a journey she had never anticipated but had silently craved.

Jace's touch was both a question and an answer, his fingers tracing the contours of Felicity's body with reverence and intent. His lips found her breast, suckling gently, drawing a gasp from deep within her. She felt the world narrowing to the sensation of his mouth, warm and insistent, sending ripples of pleasure through her.

"Feel," he murmured against her skin, a command that was both tender and compelling. Felicity surrendered to the sensation, letting go of the words that often crowded her thoughts, allowing herself to be immersed in the tactile prose Jace wrote upon her flesh.

Drifting on the edge of consciousness, she was acutely aware of every brush of his lips, every caress of his tongue as it ventured lower, worshipping at the altar of her femininity. The air itself seemed charged with electricity, each breath a static whisper across her heated skin.

The first wave of climax caught her by surprise, a powerful concerto orchestrated by Jace's knowing hands and mouth. Her body sang out, muscles clenching in sweet release, her mind awash in a sea of blissful euphoria.

As her tremors subsided, Jace reached over to where his jeans lay discarded, retrieving a small foil packet. A coy smile played on Felicity's lips as she arched her brow in a teasing inquiry.

"What can I tell you? Since meeting you," Jace replied, his eyes sparkling with mirth and something deeper, "I've discovered I'm quite the optimist." His voice was rich with promise, a sonnet that spoke of hope and new beginnings.

With a practiced ease born from a life of adapting to the unexpected, Jace rolled the condom down his length, his movements deliberate and sure. There was a weight to his gaze, heavy with intent and desire as he positioned himself over Felicity, shielding her with his body. The heat from his skin melded with hers, an invisible cloak that enveloped them in a bubble where only they existed.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, his voice a tender caress against the shell of her ear, warm breath sending shivers down her spine. It wasn't just the question but the reverence in histone, as if her consent were sacred, the key to unlocking this shared moment between them.

"More than I've ever been," Felicity replied, her voice a soft echo of conviction. She marveled at the strength she heard in her own words—a strength she attributed to the man whose emerald eyes promised her the world in a glance.

Jace hesitated for just a heartbeat longer, seeking confirmation in her eyes, finding it in the unwavering trust shining back at him. Then, with a gentle but insistent thrust, he joined their bodies, filling her in a way that went beyond the physical. A gasp escaped her lips, not from pain or surprise, but from the sheer rightness of it.

Their lovemaking was a passionate dance, a give and take that spoke volumes of the connection sparking between them. Each movement was a stroke of a pen on the parchment of their skin, writing a story that only they could understand. Jace's hips moved in a rhythm as ancient as time, each surge forward met by a welcoming arch from Felicity's body.

Breathless, Felicity clung to Jace, her fingers tracing the muscles of his back that bunched and relaxed with every motion. In his arms, she discovered a sense of security that she had never known, a confidence that bloomed like a flower touched by the first rays of dawn. The sensation of being desired, cherished, and respected was more intoxicating than any wine, more inspiring than the most poignant prose.

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