Jace opened his mouth to respond, to spit something sharp and cold—
But all that came out was a strangled moan.
And then Elias grabbed his jaw, kissed him hard, and thrust deeper.
Jace was trembling beneath him.
Elias drove into him with slow, brutal precision, one hand gripping his hip, the other tangled in his hair, holding him close—foreheads brushing, lips barely apart, breath shared like a secret.
The heat was unbearable. Elias filled him completely, body sliding over his, skin to skin. Their moans tangled in the air, sweat clinging to both of them like a second skin.
Jace's fingers clawed at Elias's back, leaving red marks in their wake.
"Say it," Elias whispered, his voice thick, hoarse. "Say you want this."
Jace shook his head, eyes wild, lips parted with every gasp. "You already know I do," he choked out. "So fuck me harder."
Elias's mouth crashed down on his again, bruising and desperate.
He slammed into Jace harder now, faster—his body losing rhythm to instinct. Jace arched under him, the pleasure making him ache, burn, shatter.
Their mouths never stopped—biting, gasping, chasing breath.
"You feel this?" Elias growled into his throat. "This is what you need. What you were made for."
Jace couldn't reply. Couldn't think.
Only feel.
Each thrust hit deep, electric, Elias's hand wrapped tight around Jace's cock now, stroking him in time with every movement inside him.
"Cum for me," Elias said.
Jace bucked, his whole body stiffening, thighs shaking as pleasure ripped through him—white-hot and blinding. He cried out, raw and hoarse, Elias holding him through it, never stopping.
Seconds later, Elias buried himself deep and groaned, biting into Jace's shoulder as he came—body shuddering, grip bruising, breath breaking apart against his skin.
For a long moment, the only sound in the room was their breathing.
Elias collapsed beside him, arm still draped over Jace's waist, their bodies tangled.
Neither spoke.
Jace's chest rose and fell in uneven waves. His body hummed, spent and sensitive. But inside his head, everything was chaos.
Why did it feel like this? Why did it mean something when it shouldn't?
He slid away from Elias slowly, sitting up on the edge of the bed, back to him. The sheets were a mess. His skin still burned where Elias had touched him.
"You should sleep," Elias said, voice rough, casual.
"I'm not staying the night," Jace replied, standing up, walking toward the bathroom without looking back.
He needed a shower. A way to rinse off this feeling. The truth. Himself.
Twenty minutes later, Jace stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed. Elias was sprawled across the bed, bare chest rising slowly, his eyes closed.
Jace paused at the door. Watching him sleep felt dangerous.
Like maybe Elias wasn't the monster he'd built up in his head. And that was the real threat.
He turned to leave.
That's when Elias's phone lit up on the nightstand.
A message popped up on the screen.
Jace wasn't going to look—but then his eyes caught something familiar in the preview.
"Did he ask about 2009 yet?"
Jace froze.
Every nerve in his body went cold.
The screen dimmed again, but the words kept flashing in his mind like a warning bell.
He reached out and grabbed the phone. No passcode.
His heart pounded as he swiped it open and clicked the thread.
There were only two messages.
Unknown: You're playing with fire.
Unknown: Did he ask about 2009 yet?
"2009…"
The year his parents died.
His throat closed up.
He looked over his shoulder. Elias was still asleep, lips parted, one arm across his stomach.
Jace clutched the phone, pulse racing.
Why would Elias get a message like that? What the hell happened in 2009?
Was there more to the story?
More to Elias?
Before he could think twice, he took a picture of the messages, sent it to himself, then placed the phone back exactly where it had been.
Then he left the room, quietly, heart thundering, mind spinning.
Whatever happened in 2009, Elias knew something.
And Jace was going to find out.