Chapter 10 - Jace
It has been too long since I have seen her. My body feels it, my heart feels it, and even my damn thoughts refuse to fall in line without her. Nothing is stopping me now. Not her father. Not fear about the future. The only barrier left is me, pretending I can turn this feeling off.
A half-mile walk. A little snow. And the truth I can finally say to myself: Layla is more than I ever expected her to be — and I want her.
That thought alone decides everything.
I push through the falling snow, light flakes catching in my hair, no storm in sight, just winter breathing around me. She was soaked to the skin the night we gave in to each other; I should be freezing now, but I am burning alive instead. Poetic and ridiculous, but true.
I text her because I want her alone, not with her father watching us. When she doesn’t tell me to go to hell, when that read receipt pops up, hope hits me sharp and hard.
Then she opens the door.
She’s in pajamas — soft, oversized pants and my shirt hanging loose on her body like it belongs there. She looks sleepy and beautiful and so heartbreakingly real I forget every excuse I ever made.
She smells like fresh soap, warm skin, and the faint trace of my shirt that clings to her — a scent that already feels like home.
Layla looks at me, then away, her voice barely steady. “If you want to end things, I get it. We live in different worlds, maybe the age gap is too much for you… or my dad is. Whatever the reason, just…” Her breath trembles. “Rip the band-aid off, Jace.”
That hits harder than anything I expected.
I step toward her, slow, like she might bolt.
“Sweetheart, no. It isn’t doubt. It’s guilt.
I’ve been tearing myself apart thinking I crossed a line, convincing myself I needed to talk to your father first, wondering if I was a terrible person for wanting you the way I do. ”
“For what? For being human?” she whispers. “For making a choice with someone who wanted you just as much?”
She sounds brave, but her eyes look so breakable it guts me.
I breathe in, steadying myself. “Let me start over.” I slide my arm around her waist and tug her close, needing to feel her, needing her warmth to pull me out of my own head.
Something in me unravels the second she’s against me.
I bury my face in her hair, and she smells like vanilla and winter air, like something pure and warm, something worth fighting for.
“I want you,” I murmur against her skin, voice rough. “And I’ll deal with every bit of guilt, every awkward conversation, every fear. I’ll walk through it all if it means being with you. You’re more important than the fear.”
She swallows hard, searching my eyes like she’s terrified to believe me. “If you’re only saying that so you can stay the night and disappear in the morning… I might not have experience, but I’ve seen movies.”
That cracks me open. A small, disbelieving laugh slips out, soft and aching.
I cup her cheek, thumb brushing her skin, then thread my fingers into her hair like I’m anchoring us both.
“Sweetheart,” I breathe, voice low, “I didn’t come here for one more night.
I came because being away from you felt wrong. ”
Her breath catches.
“And I am sorry,” I add, pressing my forehead to hers. “For those days. For making you doubt something that was real. I wasn’t pulling away from you. I was trying to figure out how to deserve you.”
She blinks fast, eyes shining, and I feel everything inside me tighten.
“I don’t want to run,” I whisper. “Not from you.”
Layla keeps staring at me, weighing every word, like she wants to trust me but is scared to fall all at once. I take a breath and let the last of my pride drop.
“I’m sorry you had to sit in doubt. I’m sorry you felt alone in this while I sorted myself out. You deserved reassurance and I didn’t give you any. That wasn’t fair.” I touch her cheek, gentle. “You’ve been steady. I’m the one who needed to catch up.”
Her voice is small, fragile with hope. “Catch up to what?”
“To us,” I say softly. “To the fact that you matter. That this matters. I want to be good to you, Layla. I want to make you happy. I want to keep going — not just because of what we shared, but because it feels like the beginning of something real.”
My voice drops, low and rough. “I’m not here for one night or to disappear again. If I was only thinking with my body, I’d already have you against my door and we wouldn’t be talking.” A faint smile touches my mouth. “And trust me, that temptation is not small.”
She blushes, the prettiest shade I’ve ever seen.
“But I’m here,” I finish, brushing my thumb across her jaw. “I walked to you. I chose you. And I’m going to keep choosing you. Not quietly, not secretly. Not once. Every damn time.”
Layla’s breath stutters, and she leans into me, uncertain and wanting. “Jace…”
I slide my nose along hers, slow, reverent, like I need the contact more than air. “Talking to you right now feels better than any life I thought I wanted without you. And I don’t plan on going anywhere unless you’re coming with me.”
Her fingers curl in my shirt like she’s afraid I’ll vanish.
I kiss her — not rushed, not greedy, but with the hunger I’ve been trying to cage for days.
It builds slow and sure, heat curling between us until she’s pressed against me like she can’t stand even an inch of distance.
I hold her face in my hands and kiss her like I’m learning her, claiming her, promising her all at once.
And when she pulls back, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, eyes shining like she’s seeing her future in mine… I know there’s no going back.
“I think we should go inside. The guest room is available,” she murmurs, voice soft and loaded with meaning.
“Oh? You didn’t replace me the second I walked out?” I tease, watching her cheeks warm.
“It was tempting,” she mutters, looking away. “But it wouldn’t have felt the same. And…” she swallows, nervous but excited, “Dad’s not home. He left early to help a neighbor with fence repairs.”
That knowledge hits like a match tossed onto gasoline.
The second we step into the hallway, I scoop her into my arms, lifting her like she weighs nothing. Any distance between us feels offensive.
She gasps, fingers flying to my shoulders. “Jace!”
“Shh.” My voice drops, low and commanding. “Noise carries in this house. Especially moans.”
Her face goes scarlet, which means I get her into the bedroom, get the door shut and locked and have myself half-stripped by the time she recovers.
I steal her mouth before she can say a word, kissing her with every ounce of hunger and need that’s built up over the last five days – six – six days without her.
I groan against her lips as I pull my shirt off her.
She’s bare, beautiful. Her skin lifts in goosebumps under my palms, and her breath stutters when my thumb brushes the soft curve of her breast. For a second I just look at her — flushed, nervous, trusting — like she’s the most impossible thing I’ve ever been given.
She swallows hard. “Wait,” she whispers, voice trembling. “I just need to say something first.”
I freeze, immediately ready to pull back. “If you want to stop—”
“I don’t.” She blurts it, cheeks flushing deeper. “I don’t want to stop. I just… I don’t want this to be something you walk away from again.”
There it is. Her fear. The part that matters more than anything.
“Look at me,” I tell her, voice low. When her eyes find mine, I brush my knuckles along her jaw, slow and anchoring. “I’m here. I’m staying. I’m going to prove that to you.”
Relief softens her face and she exhales shakily.
I lean in and kiss down her neck, slow and sure, like I’m tasting a promise. “Let me show you,” I murmur against her skin. “Let me make this real for you.”
Her fingers slide into my hair and she shivers, melting under my mouth. Goosebumps rise everywhere I touch — shoulders, collarbone, the beautiful softness of her chest. I take my time, kissing, savoring, tracing the sensitive curve beneath her breast until her breath catches in a helpless sound.
“You’re so responsive,” I whisper, worshiping every inch. “So alive under my hands. So damn perfect.”
Her body arches into me, instinctive, needy, trusting.
“And I love all of you,” I say, lifting my head just long enough to meet her eyes. “Your voice. Your fire. The way you fill the quiet. The way you challenge me.” My hand slides down her side, a claiming stroke that leaves no doubt. “Don’t ever stop doing that.”
She nods, breath trembling, and I lower my mouth again, on her nipples this time — slow, reverent, hungry — like I have all night and every night after to learn her.
“God, Jace…” she breathes, voice shaking. “I’m so—”
“I know,” I murmur against her skin, lips brushing her stomach as I work lower, slow and hungry. “I can feel how much you want me already.”
She whimpers, fingers sliding into my hair like she’s afraid I’ll disappear again.
I kiss a trail down her stomach, deliberately slow, savoring every shiver, every breath she loses. As I glide my hands down her hips and loosen the last of her clothing, I say against her skin, “I might have to wait to worship your back the way I want to.”
Her breath stutters. “Why?”
I slip the fabric away, my palms running down her thighs like I’m claiming them. I kiss the sharp curve of her hip, teeth grazing lightly. A sound close to a growl breaks in my throat.
“Because once I put my mouth on you,” I whisper, voice low and dark with promise, “I’m not going to want to stop.”
She trembles, knees softening, opening for me in pure instinct. “My back can wait,” she breathes, voice barely there.
“Good girl.”
I kiss down her inner thighs, slow, patient torture, savoring how her breath catches every time I get close. Up, down, back again, until she’s trembling and curling her toes, her hand gripping my shoulder like she needs something solid to hold on to.
“Jace…” she begs, voice thin and wanting. “Please. I need you. Stop teasing.”
I look up at her, steady and sure. “You’ll have me.” My voice is a vow. “Now, tomorrow, and every day you’ll let me stay. As long as you can handle me.”
Her eyes shine, full of everything she’s been trying not to say. “Forever,” she whispers.
I nod, rubbing my nose against her clit while using my tongue to swirl just inside her entrance.
I keep my eyes on her while pushing her thighs down so I can palm her breasts, pinch her nipples, and give her everything she deserves.
She grinds against my tongue, tries to get me exactly where she needs without using her words.
One of her hands works through my hair while the other spreads over my bicep.
“Jace. Right there… Yes … oh yes, yes,” she gasps.
I focus right where she needs me until she finishes on my tongue. I lick my lips, loving how she tastes. She tastes like she’s already mine. She trembles as I stand up and shuck my pants. She eyes my cock.
“Can I try?”
If she asks me with that eager glint to her eyes, I’ll give her everything. “Try whatever you want, sweetheart.”
She tugs me towards her and licks over my cock. Her eyes flick up to me. “Tell me what you like. I like hearing you in bed.”
“Fuck, that’s good to hear, Layla. Spread your lips. Suck and lick, just like a lollipop … yes, just like that. Get used to how my cock feels on your tongue and in your mouth,” I encourage.
I watch as she slowly adjusts, then takes more, and more. I grit my teeth when she gags. Her throat tightens around me so perfectly, but I grip her hair. “Only take as much as you can. Don’t force yourself. Your tongue feels so good.”
She blows me slowly, following every bit of guidance until I can’t take it anymore. “If you keep going, I’m going to come. I’d rather please you again.”
Her eyes open slowly and she pops off me with a soft sucking sound. I grit my teeth. She swallows. “I want you. In every way, Jace. Not just one.”
I grope for the condom I grabbed and slowly work it over my cock. I shudder at even the feel of my hand on my dick. “Roll over, Layla. On your knees for me.”
She obeys, but looks at me over her shoulder. She wiggles her ass slightly and I groan at the view. “Beautiful, from every angle. Constantly better than the last time I saw you. Always more.”
“More what?”
“More perfect,” I growl, gripping her hips and slowly guiding myself into her. She lets out a little whimper, but rocks back against me. “See, you were meant for me, Layla. Every flawless inch of you. That beautiful mind, your sweetness, you.”
“Yes,” she sighs. “Jace …”
I take my time with her, guiding her back until she’s riding me reverse cowgirl because not kissing her, touching her, showing her all the ways we can enjoy each other would be a travesty. I cup her breast, tell her to show me how she touches herself, can’t untangle myself from her.
She sets the pace, slow and languid until she begs me for everything, begs me to give her what she needs and I’m a slave to her needs. I spread her thighs wider and keep kneading her breast while gripping her hair and kissing her hungrily.
“I won’t finish until you do. You’re going to finish. It’s going to be soon, and it’s only going to be the start of our future,” I growl.
Then I lose myself in her. I keep thrusting into her, harder when she begs me for it, faster when she’s on the edge, until she finally gives in, coming for me and biting my throat gently to stay quiet.
I push her hips down and grind into her, loving how she tightens around me, how she pants my name, the soft breathy moans that still escape her throat.
“Please, Jace. I want to make you-”
That’s all she gets out before I kiss her hard, trying to keep kissing her and tasting her even as I finish deep inside her. She trembles and nuzzles my neck.
We clean up together and lay in bed. I stay wrapped around her, kissing across her back, rubbing her hip, whispering in her hair. “I’m sorry I took so long to catch up, Layla.”