Chapter 13 Elior #2
I shouldn’t take it. I shouldn’t want to. After what had just happened—after how easily I had given in—I should’ve felt ashamed, pushing him away, not reaching for him like he was a source of warmth in a cold, dark room.
But my fingers lifted anyway, hesitant and shaking.
Jace wrapped his hand around mine, steady and sure, like he’d been waiting for me to decide.
“Slow,” he murmured. “Just lean on me.”
I did.
Every step hurt, but not because of him. My back, my thighs—my whole body felt fragile, like I’d been hollowed out and left full of sparkly, aching light. Jace stayed pressed to my side, supporting more of my weight than I meant to give him.
When we reached the bathroom, he turned the shower on and let it start to warm. He kept one arm around me the whole time, even when he didn’t need to.
“Sit for me?” he asked, guiding me over to the toilet.
I did, and my legs immediately threatened to give out in relief.
Jace didn’t touch me at first. He crouched in front of me, eyes scanning my face like he was checking if I was still breathing.
“Elior,” he said softly. “You’re safe.”
Something inside me cracked at the word.
Safe.
I didn’t know if I deserved that. I didn’t know if wanting it from him made me a sinner. I didn’t even know if I understood what he meant by it. Everything had felt so jumbled up ever since Father picked up that whip.
My fingers fidgeted in my lap. “Jace… I don’t know how to feel.”
“That’s alright,” he murmured, using a washcloth to wipe off the remnants of his pleasure from my face. “You don’t have to know anything right now. I’m not asking for anything from you. Let me help you wash up, and then you can rest.”
My eyes burned. I blinked hard.
He helped me stand, then guided me under the warm spray of the shower. And although he followed me in, I could tell he was trying his best to not crowd me.
“I need to clean your back first, okay, baby?”
I swallowed and nodded, cheeks hot—not from arousal, but from a confusing mix of vulnerability and trust. It was weird, wanting comfort from the same man who’d… touched me.
He wet the washcloth, lathered it with the bar of soap, and touched it to my uninjured shoulder first—testing my reaction.
“This okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” I breathed. “It’s… it’s okay.”
The cloth moved in slow circles, extra soft on the broken parts of my skin.
“I don’t understand you,” I whispered, the confession slipping out before I could catch it.
Jace paused only for a heartbeat, then resumed the gentle motion. “What part of me don’t you understand, cherub?”
My chest tightened at the endearment. “You’re…” My voice wavered. “I just don’t know. I can’t… Why are you doing this?”
His hand stopped again. “Cleaning you?” he asked. “Or are you asking about the sexual things?” He swept the cloth carefully along my side.
My breath caught. “I don’t know,” I whispered. “Both? Is it… is it supposed to be like that? I didn’t think men could be together in that way.”
Jace gently turned me to face him under the shower’s stream. “It’s completely normal,” he said, washing my front. “All that’s different is that you won’t get pregnant when I fuck you. Doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”
My heart pounded, and I’m sure I blushed from the tips of my ears to my toes. “Oh…”
He smirked, then said teasingly, “It sounds like you’re disappointed. Did you want to have my baby, cherub? You are the Vessel, after all. You’re made to be filled up.”
My eyes widened, getting a chuckle out of him.
“Elior,” he said, his voice dropping a bit. “Did you get any sex-ed here? Did someone teach you about how your body works?”
I shook my head, confused why someone would have taught me anything of the sort.
His dark eyes saddened, but he gave me a soft smile. “Okay. That’s what I thought. It’s okay, just means I have to be careful.” He paused, cupping my cheek. I leaned into his touch, soothed by his gentleness. “Your dad didn’t talk to you about sex at all?”
“Um, well, Father said sex is for when married men and women want to have babies. And that masturbation is a sin,” I said quietly, not quite sure anymore.
Jace grimaced, then shook his head. “Babies can definitely be a result of heterosexual sex, but sex isn’t only about that. It’s more about intimacy and fun. It can deepen emotional bonds, or just be something focused on pleasure. And you definitely don’t need to be married to have it.”
“So people have sex even if they don’t want a baby?”
“All the time, cherub. Condoms and birth control are there for a reason.”
My brows creased. “Condoms? Birth control?”
Jace’s expression softened—part pity, part fondness, part something heavier I still didn’t have words for. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Okay, let’s slow down a little.”
He rinsed the cloth under the stream, then set it aside, leaving his hands free. For a moment, he just looked at me—really looked at me—as if deciding how much I could handle.
“Elior,” he said gently, “sex isn’t only for making babies. And it isn’t evil or lustful or whatever when your body reacts to things. Getting hard is normal. It’s just your body saying it’s healthy and everything works like it should.”
Heat flushed over my cheeks again. “So… it’s not sinful? When that happens?”
“No,” Jace said firmly, almost fiercely. “Not even a little. It’s as natural as breathing. Everyone gets aroused. It doesn’t mean you did something wrong.”
My lips parted slowly. “O-oh.”
Something in me loosened—something I hadn’t realized was wound tight.
Jace seemed to notice, because he stepped closer, brushing a wet strand of hair off my forehead. “You don’t need to be embarrassed about your body—or ashamed. There’s nothing dirty or wrong about the way you’re made.”
“But…” I swallowed, feeling small. “I feel stupid.”
Jace’s eyebrows pulled together instantly, a flash of protectiveness sharpening his features. “Hey,” he said, gently tilting my chin up. “Look at me.”
I did.
“You’re not,” he insisted. “You’re learning things you were never given the chance to learn. That takes courage, cherub.”
Courage.
I’d never thought of it like that.
Jace’s thumb stroked my cheekbone. “And I’m not judging you. I’m glad you’re asking questions. You can ask me anything.”
I nodded, though my pulse fluttered at how gentle he was being.
“Okay,” Jace continued softly. “So. Condoms and birth control. Those are things people use when they want to have sex but not make a baby. Condoms go over a penis and catch the semen. Birth control is usually for women—pills or devices that prevent pregnancy.”
“…Oh.”
That didn’t sound sinful at all. It sounded… practical.
Jace cleared his throat, scratching lightly at the back of his neck. “There’s also… well. There’s a lot more. About being safe, consent, how couples take care of each other. But we don’t have to do it all now.”
I hesitated, then whispered, double-checking, “So… men can do things together even if no baby comes from it?”
“Yes,” he said, with a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Absolutely.”
“And women too?”
“Yep.”
“And it’s… normal?”
“It’s normal,” he confirmed. “People fall in love in all sorts of ways. Bodies respond in all sorts of ways.”
I thought about the way my body had responded to him earlier. The heat. The trembling. The way the pleasure had exploded through me like lightning in my veins.
I swallowed. “So when I… when I got hard this morning… that wasn’t wrong?”
“It wasn’t wrong,” Jace said, his voice like a warm blanket. “It was just your body reacting to stimulation. That’s all.”
“And when it… happened? When the… white stuff came out?”
“Also normal,” Jace said, lips quirking. “That’s called an orgasm. Or coming. Every healthy body with a cock does that. It’s how your body releases sexual tension.”
My shoulders slumped a little in relief, though I stared down at the tiles, embarrassed to meet his eyes. “I thought I did something bad.”
Jace stepped closer and curled a finger under my chin again, lifting my face toward his slowly, like I was fragile glass.
“Elior, baby,” he murmured. “It would be concerning if you didn’t get hard with someone touching you like how I was.”
“So I’m… just healthy?” I asked, barely above a whisper. “N-normal?”
Jace’s expression softened even more. “Yes, cherub.”
A shaky breath left me, almost a laugh, almost a sob.
“And if you ever have questions, just ask me. I’ll do my best to catch you up. It’s not your fault the adults around you neglected your education.”
I nodded, blinking fast. “I trust you,” I whispered before I could second-guess it.
Jace stilled, like the words had cut through to someplace deep and dangerous inside him. “Good,” he said roughly, his expression darkening for just a second before relaxing again. “Now let’s get you dried off and dressed.”
“Um… wait. I have another question,” I whispered, surprising even myself.
“Yeah?”
“Earlier, when, uh… when we… you know. You were calling yourself my Daddy.” My cheeks warmed even thinking about it. “But you’re not my dad? I don’t get it. Is that a normal sex thing?”
Jace’s eyes flicked downward, almost flinching—just barely, but enough that I noticed. He let out a slow breath, then met my gaze again. “I—Well, a lot of people have kinks—”
“Kinks?” I parroted, my head tilted.
“Kinks are hard to explain,” he laughed.
“They’re like things people like or even need during sex, or well, in their relationships in general.
For me, I need to be the dominant one in a relationship.
It makes me feel good if I’m someone my partner is dependent on.
That they look to me to make decisions, and they trust me to keep them safe and cared for.
Although that last part is only for you—I haven’t felt that before. ”
“Are a lot of men Daddies?”
“Yeah, I’d say it’s a relatively common kink. There can be Mommies, too.”
My brows raised as I let him lead me out of the shower. “Wow, really? It’s not just for guys?”
“Nope.”
He draped the towel around my shoulders first, letting the fabric fall down my back before patting gently along the uninjured areas. The care in his touch made my throat tighten. I shouldn’t have wanted it. I shouldn’t have found comfort in it. But I did.
He wrapped another towel around my waist, then guided me back toward the bedroom, one hand steady at my elbow.
“Sit,” he said softly, nodding toward my desk chair.
I did, lowering myself carefully. My eyes flicked over to the bed. The sheets were rumpled and dirty from earlier, and I felt heat flood my face at the sight. Jace noticed but didn’t comment. He only knelt to pick up my nightshirt from the floor, shaking it loose.
“Arms up?” he asked.
I obeyed, and he eased the shirt over my head. When the fabric brushed my back, I hissed, but Jace immediately adjusted it, making sure nothing pressed against the wounded skin.
“There,” he murmured. “Better?”
“Uh-huh.” I watched as he found my shorts and brought them over, helping me put my feet through the holes.
“Such a good boy,” he told me, helping me stand and pull the shorts up the rest of the way. “My good boy. Right?” He raised his brow expectantly.
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Yes, what, baby?”
My fingers twisted in the hem of my shirt. “Yes, D-Daddy,” I whispered, face burning.
* * *
I lowered myself onto the Seat of Light as carefully as I could. Still, a jolt ran through my back, enough that I had to breathe through my teeth. The fabric of my robe dragged across half-healed cuts, and for a moment the room swam.
Jace had been furious earlier, after we’d gone into the kitchen and found my breakfast, along with an antibacterial ointment and a note. It was from Dahlia, instructing me to put the medicine on my wounds before morning service.
My heart had swelled from her kindness, but beside me, Jace had cursed under his breath while reading the last few words. He was angry, not at Dahlia, of course, but at Father for expecting me to come to the service like everything was normal.
I had told Jace that it would be okay, but now, sitting here, I wasn’t sure.
As the congregation filed in and took their seats in the pews, a few glanced up at me, then snapped their attention away again as if burned.
Father hadn’t said anything as he’d watched me wince in pain getting up on the big chair. He didn’t ask how I was feeling or even acknowledge my suffering at all.
Did he not care?
He began the morning rites as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t whipped me until I passed out just last night.
I found Silas in the crowd, who flinched when our eyes met. He didn’t look away, though. He held my gaze. He looked terrible, like he hadn’t slept at all. His face was puffy and red like he’d been crying for hours.
I tried to tell him with my eyes that it was okay, but I wasn’t sure if he understood.
It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t deserve the guilt that was clearly eating him alive.
About to cry myself, I looked away, instead searching for another face within the rows of people whispering and casting furtive glances my way.
Nausea welled up inside me, but eased as I found Jace.
His eyes softened the moment he saw I was looking at him. His expression didn’t change much—his jaw was still set, his brow still furrowed—but something in him gentled, as if he were trying to comfort me from across the sanctuary.
A moment later, Father’s voice boomed through the room, pulling my gaze forward again.
The sermon began, the congregation bowing their heads and praying in unison.
I tried to shift on my seat to relieve some of the pressure, but the motion tugged at the torn skin, and white-hot pain shot through me.
I couldn’t stop the sharp inhale that escaped.
The sound was small, but it echoed anyway—at least in my own ears.
No one moved.
No one acknowledged it.
My hands fisted on the arms of the Seat, knuckles white beneath the sleeves of my robe. For a second, panic pressed up against my ribs. Maybe I really was supposed to be able to handle this. Maybe this was proof of some flaw in me, some weakness Father always suspected.
I swallowed hard, the memory of Jace stroking my hair as I fell asleep grounding me when nothing else did.
I risked one more glance at him.
His eyes were locked on me.
Did he really want me? He was so perfect, and I was just me.