Saving Jace

by Rebecca Rivard

  She traced her fingers up and down his wrists. He was strong, with those hard, heavy bones she’d noticed right from the first. His forearms were corded, the backs of his wrists covered with fine black hairs.

  She slid her hand up his arm to the tattoo on his upper arm. The cat’s paw itself was black, with touches of gold fire at the claw tips. She outlined it with her finger. “This is something to do with your cat?”

  He grunted, and something about the way his face tightened told her he didn’t want to talk about it. Then he swooped down to nip at her throat and everything else flew out of her head.

  His fingers went to work again on her breasts, stroking and pinching until she was writhing on the bed. He bent down and sucked each nipple until they were both a wet, rosy pink.

  She dug her heels into the mattress and tried to lift her hips toward him, but her legs were closed, her thighs pinned between his. She pushed at his chest, but he took her hands and pressed them to the mattress on either side of her head.

  She moaned. “Please, Jace.”

  “Please what?” His lips moved against hers, soft and warm. “Do you want me to kiss you?” He teased the seam of her lips with his tongue.

  “Yes.” She lifted her head and tried to deepen the kiss, but he just gave her a quick peck before sitting back again.

  “Maybe you want me to touch you here…” His fingers moved down her abdomen, leaving tiny flames in their wake, driving her to madness.

  “Yes,” she rasped.

  “I like to take things slow.” His voice was warm and a little rough. It stroked over her nerve endings like coarse silk. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”

  Her head moved from side to side against the pillows. “Yes. No. God, Jace.”

  He chuckled, and then—finally, blessedly—he moved so that his knees were between hers. She gave a whimper of relief and bent her knees, opening to him. He slid a finger over her curls, and she lifted her pelvis, straining toward his touch. His finger slid lower, brushing over her most sensitive flesh so that she clenched her jaw at the pleasure of it.

  He played with her, sliding his finger in and out of her, teasing her clit, until she was wound so tight, a single touch would’ve set her off, and then he lifted his hand.

  “Jace.”

  “Hm?” He brushed his fingers over her again.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Stop teasing.”

  He nipped her ear. “You do know that I’m a cat?”

  “So?”

  “We like to play.”

  She gasped as he touched her again. “Oh,” was all she could say as he slid two long fingers into her and then out again.

  He nuzzled her collarbone. “You know you like it.”

  She angled her head so that he could kiss her throat. “If I say yes, are you going to tease me more?”

  “Yeah.” He nipped her skin. “But remember, I can scent a lie.”

  She raised her hands in mock surrender. “Then yes. Do your worst.”

  “Oh, angel.” His breath rasped in. “I’m going to make you scream.”

  He brought his hands back to her face and lowered his body onto hers, keeping himself propped on his forearms. His legs came between hers and she automatically widened her thighs. He was still wearing his shorts. His hips settled against hers, his cock hard and thick against her through the thin layer of material separating them.

  “So soft.” He cupped the base of her skull in one big hand and nuzzled her cheek. “Everything about you is soft. Your hair, your lips. Your skin.” He moved his mouth to her ear, sucking the hoop with the silver disc into his mouth, tonguing and nipping the sensitive lobe. “Soft. But strong where it counts.”

  “Mm.” She wrapped her hands around his shoulders, exploring the round, hard muscles. His quartz lay between them, smooth and warm against her breast bone. It felt almost alive, like a bird’s egg.

  Jace lifted his head. The pendant hung from his chest, the smoky gray and purple infused with a faint green glow.

  “May I?” She reached for his quartz but didn’t touch it, recalling how he’d recoiled the night he’d been stabbed.

  He shook his head. “It hurts if anyone but a close relative touches it…or my mate, if I ever take one.”

  “But it doesn’t hurt when it rests on my chest?” she asked, and ignored how her heart constricted at the thought of his someday taking a mate.

  “No. And don’t ask me to explain why—it’s not logical. Magic has its own rules.”

  “Why is it glowing?”

  “Is it?”

  He looked down, frowning, and then shrugged. “Thing has a mind of its own. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah—I was talking about how soft you are. Here and here.” He pressed a hot kiss to each of her nipples, and then licked the undersides. “And here.”

  Her legs writhed beneath his. She reached down and tried to push off his shorts.

  His hand went to his waistband. “You want these off?”

  When she nodded, he murmured agreeably and got out of bed to remove them. He grabbed a handful of condoms from the nightstand drawer and dropped them on the table next to the amethyst before crawling back on top of her.

  She touched his chest. “Jace?”

  “Mm?” He smoothed a hand down her belly.

  “I should tell you it’s been a while.”

  His thumb brushed over her clit. A quick, light touch that made her muscles tense. “I’m honored then.”

  “You should be.” Her mouth quirked. “I don’t take my clothes off for just anyone.”

  He stilled and stared down at her, eyes shuttered. “I am.”

  But she sensed his withdrawal. So this was just sex. She kept her smile—but inside, her stomach twisted, even as she told herself that was all she wanted, too.

  He lowered his mouth to hers and she kissed him back hard, wrapping her hand around his nape. He met her kiss for kiss, sweeping his tongue into her mouth. Tasting her. Teasing her.

  She felt hot, unbearably aroused. Her hips moved restively against his, and she sucked his tongue deeper.

  His groan vibrated deep inside her belly.

  When he lifted his head, they were both sucking in oxygen. They stared at each other without speaking, and then Jace pressed a kiss to her collarbone.

  “Your skin is like strawberries and cream,” he rasped. “And fuck, I want to eat you.”

  He didn’t wait for her response, just headed down her body. When he reached her mound, he pressed her thighs apart. “Beautiful.”

  She pressed her palms on the mattress, her thighs rigid in anticipation.

  He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her clit. Sensation zinged up her spine, tightened her nipples. He feathered his lips over her needy sex, licking and teasing her until she thought she’d go mad—and then he swiped his tongue up her moist center.

  “Oh, God,” she said on a moan. “No….no.”

  “No, what?” he asked against her pussy.

  Her head moved back and forth on the sheets. “I mean yes.”

  “Yes to this?” His tongue slipped over her, circling her clit. Light, sure touches that had every muscle in her body constricting.

  She threaded her fingers through his hair. It was almost dry now, the strands silky thick. “Yes.”

  “Or maybe you like this better?” He opened her with his thumbs and dipped his tongue inside her.

  Her core contracted. She muttered something incoherent.

  “Can’t make up your mind?”

  She shook her head, unable to form words. She only knew that she wanted more, so that was what she said: “More—please.”

  He gave a throaty chuckle against her inner thigh. “I like a woman who begs.” He rewarded her with more licking and sucking.

  The tiny flames danced up and down her body, gathered at her center.

  He nibbled at her belly. “I’m waiting, Evie.”

  Heat spiked through her. There was something so sexy about the way he said it, low and firm. Her hands
fisted in the sheets. “Please, Jace. Please. Kiss me. Suck me.”

  He murmured something rough and dark. He slid a long finger into her and at the same time, set his lips to her tender, aching flesh—and sucked. Hard.

  Electricity arced through her. Her hips bucked and he pushed her back down onto the bed. She dug her fingers into the mattress and whimpered his name. Her thighs tightened on his arms, and then she pressed up against him.

  “That’s it,” he murmured, stroking a finger into her wet opening. “Come for me, pretty Evie.”

  She cried out one more please, and then the fire at her center exploded in a series of rapid, molten bursts.

  Jace gave a last, voluptuous lick to her pussy. She lay on the mattress, too pleasured to move, and watched as he fitted a condom on himself.

  He came back over her body. She was still feeling the aftershocks. He worked his way up her body, kissing her as he moved: her stomach, her nipples, the sensitive indentation of her throat.

  He settled between her thighs. His tip nudged her center, blunt and so good. She raised her hips to take him in and he thrust into her in a leisurely glide.

  She moaned as her body stretched to accommodate him. It was too much. It wasn’t enough. And then she was completely filled.

  “Yes,” she said hoarsely. “Just like that.”

  He buried his face in her neck. “You’re so tight,” he gritted against her skin. “So fucking hot.”

  He pulled out and thrust in again. Every nerve ending in her body shuddered with wonder. She dug her heels into his ass. “More.”

  He lifted his head and gazed down at her, his eyes a gorgeous swirl of green and gold and brown. His canines looked sharper, as if he were truly half cat at this moment.

  Her jaguar man.

  “More of this?” he asked in guttural tones, and thrust back in—hard.

  “Yes.” Her breath sawed in. “Please, yes.”

  She gripped his head and kissed him. He kissed her back, and then took her hands and, threading his fingers through hers, pinned them on either side of her head, holding her in place while he continued moving in and out of her. Slow, deep strokes that she felt clear to the base of her spine.

  It was erotic, sensual. Perfect.

  And then slow wasn’t enough, and she canted her hips toward him, tightening delicate inner muscles around his thrusting cock.

  “Holy fuck,” he muttered, and they moved together, fast and hard. “That’s it. Take it, Evie.”

  He released her hands. “With me,” he said. “I want you with me.” One arm wrapped around her shoulders while the other cupped her hip so he could thrust into her at a new angle.

  Oh. My. God.

  Pleasure and pain fused into one glorious burst of sensation. She heard herself cry out, and then she shot over the edge. He pumped into her a few more times, and then groaned out her name and followed her.

  Jace rested his face in the turn of Evie’s neck, lungs heaving. He felt as if he’d been run over by a steamroller like a cartoon coyote—but what a way to die.

  He inhaled deeply, steeping himself in her summery scent—fresh, sexy, and all Evie.

  Her breath huffed out, a warm puff against his temple, and he gave her a last kiss on the lips before rolling onto his back. He curved an arm around her, tucking her close to his side. She murmured something and set a hand on his waist. A minute later, she went lax with sleep.

  Poor baby was exhausted. A wave of protectiveness washed over him.

  It’s just sex, he told himself. She doesn’t want more, and neither do you if you’re smart.

  Then he dragged in a breath. Because who the hell was he kidding? His cat was already acting possessive and the man was halfway in love with her.

  Still, Evie wasn’t his mate. He didn’t feel the mate bond—not even a hint. Not that he was sure what it felt like, but everyone said you just knew. And yet…the cat was so content in her presence. He’d never felt that around any woman—fada, human, or fae.

  The fae lights had drifted closer to Evie. There were six of them in the bedroom now. The woman was a fucking light magnet. They hovered near, tinting her face with a warm glow. Her dimple flashed in her sleep.

  He recalled how she’d looked when he’d come into the room—impossibly beautiful, her hair the color of sunlight, her eyes a deep topaz beneath her dark brows.

  He smoothed a thumb down her cheek. How had he fooled himself into believing she had only a few drops of fae? The woman practically glowed, just like the rest of her kin.

  But she wasn’t just fae, she was human, too. A mixed-blood, just like Silver.

  “Fada don’t mix with other humans or fae.” Leron had pounded that into all of them, until Jace had believed it. “Humans are weak, easy to break, and the fae would sell out their own mothers for a handful of jewels. And you’ll have cubs who can’t take an animal form.”

  Jace had shuddered. The cat was part of him, clear to his soul. Being without it would be like cutting out a vital, irreplaceable piece.

  That had clinched it for him. He was pretty sure he’d muttered that to Adric, when he’d given his friend the news about Takira’s mating. “Her cub probably won’t even be able to shift.”

  Gods, he’d been so fucking self-righteous.

  And Leron had been wrong because Merry could shift. She was a beautiful black jaguar, just like him.

  He tucked Evie closer and stared at the ceiling as one by one, the fae lights winked out until the room went dark.

  20

  Evie came awake in slow increments. She was curled on her side, a big arm draped over her waist.

  Jace. Her lips curved.

  No covers except a sheet tangled around her legs, but he was spooned around her, and his body generated plenty of heat.

  She was pleasantly sore in places that hadn’t seen any action in way too long. She might even have a couple of slight bruises where he’d gripped her hip at the end, but who cared when she felt so good? She curled her fingers around his hand where it rested on her stomach and opened her eyes.

  Without windows, there was no way to tell the time, but she guessed it was close to morning. Above her, the fae lights glowed on, painting the room with the muted colors of dawn—rose, a soft yellow, a pale sky-blue.

  “Nice trick,” she murmured.

  Lips tickled her nape. “Who’re you talking to?”

  Her cheeks heated. “No one.”

  The arm on her waist tightened. “The fae lights?”

  “Yeah,” she admitted. “They seem almost alive. I thought about morning and they came on.”

  “It’s you. They’re somewhat self-directed, but I’ve never seen them as responsive as they are to you.”

  “Really? Huh.” She stretched out a hand on the mattress. A shining ball the color of sunlight slid over her palm, sending a tingle up her arm. “So why does that bother you?”

  He released her waist and rolled onto his back. “It doesn’t.”

  “No? It sure seemed like it did last night.”

  “It’s like we said in your kitchen—we don’t mix. Fada, humans, fae—” He moved a hand.

  “Wow.” She sat up and swung her legs off the bed. “So I have two strikes against me. Maybe I’d better just leave.”

  “No—wait.” He grabbed her wrist. “Don’t be mad.”

  She pinned him with a look. “Let. Me. Go.”

  He released her and sat up. “Just listen—please? I’m sorry. But you said yourself that we don’t mix.”

  She had. And she’d be wise to remember it.

  She sank down on the edge of the mattress. “What?”

  “I told you about my niece Merry. Her mom—my sister—was killed by some of our own people. But the night fae helped.” He blew out a breath. “Because she had a baby girl who was a quarter fae. I know you’re not a night fae, but the baby was part-human, too, and it caused problems for Takira in the clan. Things were so bad then, anyway—people went a little crazy. After Takira
died, a night fae went after her mate and the cub. Merry was the only one who survived.”

  “Oh, Jace.” She closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

  He jerked his head in acknowledgment. “Merry has to hide from the night fae. They have a thing about keeping their bloodlines pure. She’d be dead now if not for the Rock Run fada.”

  “Oh, God.” Evie’s heart squeezed. She could only imagine how she’d feel if it were Kyler.

  “It was almost nine years ago, but—” He looked away.

  She touched his thigh. “You still miss her. Your sister.”

  “Every fucking day. You asked about the tat.” He indicated the cat’s paw on his shoulder. “It’s in honor of Takira. Her jaguar was gold and black.”

  She swallowed, and then scooted closer. Just touching him—thigh to thigh with her shoulder against his.

  He slanted her a look. She’d thought he had a hard face, but now she knew him better, she saw there was something soulful about it, too—as if the hardness were a mask he wore to hide whatever was beneath.

  He’s sad. Underneath, he’s sad and lonely. Evie didn’t know how she knew. She just did. He was still grieving—for his sister, his parents.

  “If both her parents are dead, why doesn’t your niece live here?”

  “When things went south, Takira took her family and disappeared. Merry was just four years old and she had to go into fucking hiding. And Takira”—his breath rasped in—“I never saw her again.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She threaded her fingers through his.

  “Anyway, after Takira was killed, Merry’s dad took her and ran, but the assassins found him, too. Merry was about five by then. Somehow she ended up in Grace Harbor with the Rock Run fada.” He shook his head. “I thought she died with her father. By the time we found her again, two years had passed and she thought of the woman who’d adopted her as her mom. I…” His throat worked. “I couldn’t take her away.”

  Evie nodded. She understood, even agreed—but her heart hurt for him. To be forced to make such a choice…

  “It’s for the best,” he said. “She’s got a family—a mom and a dad and a little sister and brother. And I get to see her every week or so. At least I know she’s alive, and happy.”