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Prologue: In The Middle Of The Night (5,7K)
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Clary's PoV.
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Clary never considered herself a bad person. She wasn't a good girl, but still, she was a good person. She had morals. She donated to charity. She rarely talked badly of someone who wasn't there to defend themselves. She never killed or injured anyone on purpose. So, yes, Clary considered herself a good person.
Until that day...
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For as long as she'd known it, Clary believed in happily ever after. She believed in love, and the power of it and how much good it could do a person. She just thought it wasn't for her.
Her parents had the perfect love story. They were highschool sweethearts, and never doubted each other, and barely ever fought over things more trivial than what tv show to watch during game night. Their relationship was strong and worth a Hollywood movie, minus the drama and probable death of a villain. After all, they were each other's first love. They covered all the bases included in long lasting love, including the random flowers delivered to Jocelyn and the lunch trips with a picnic to Valentine's were simply in love, and therefore the perfect couple to be raised by.
Jonathan, Clary's older brother, was slowly getting more and more involved in his relationship with Izzy. They met a year ago at work, and were almost inseparable now. Clary always liked the way Jon would look at Izzy as if he was a blind man seeing the sky for the first time, every time Izzy would appear by his sides. Jon had never been a ladykiller, but he'd never been a romantic either. Until Izzy came into his life.
Clary didn't have that luck. She didn't fall for many guys, and when she did it never worked out for her. There was always something wrong with her that made all her relationships fail. Her father didn't mind that much, because he 'didn't want to see his little girl settle so quickly'. Her Mom was prone to say that she should simply be patient. But when Jon used the L word to refer to Izzy, that's when Clary decided that she was not made for love.
After all, what can a twenty-five years old girl do when she seemed defective in the romantic relationships department? All her friends were in steady relationships, ready to get married, to have kids, and she simply wasn't. She couldn't even keep a boyfriend for more than six months. Love was simply not made for her.
So she decided to stop waiting and looking for love. She was just one of those people who would die alone, filling her nights with hookups until she's eventually eaten by cats and only remembered by her parents and her brother. She was the eternal bridesmaid, but never the bride. She made a sort of peace with it. What could she do? Strap a guy in the apartment she shared with Jon until he would rightfully fall in love with her?
So now, she was enjoying life as it was coming. Not getting herself involved in any sort of relationship for the past year and hooking up with a few guys. It wasn't as fun as it seemed, because guys were hard to get, and even harder to convince of this one time thing. Who would have thought that guys liked the idea of settling more than girls? Maybe not as radically as girls, but still.
And this is how she ended up in a hotel room with some guy that she met at an event that her company threw. The guy didn't keep his eyes off of her all night, and she would be lying if she said that she didn't feel attracted to him as well. He was more than good-looking, he was gorgeous. It looked like he was straight out of a movie or a magazine.
Clary had never been into blonde guys. She was more into dark haired, green eyes guys; but still, this man caught her attention amongst the crowd. Maybe it was the tall height and lean build that stood out amongst all the corny designers. Maybe it was the bronzed hair that fell so perfectly around his sharply planed face, framing those beautiful molten eyes. Or maybe it was the way he looked at her, as if he had bid thousands of dollars at a silent auction and she was his prize he was waiting to claim She didn't know, but still, something in him made Clary's insides curl.
And even though Clary had always been rather confident with herself when it came to guys, she didn't go talk to him. Something inside her was telling her not to do it, and over the years, she learned to always listen to her instincts. So she just stared from afar, thinking that she could still use her imagination later at night to satisfy the urges that he awoke from her.
Still, fate made it its business to interfere in her life. They met at the elevator while people were still enjoying themselves at the part, no earlier than at least one in the morning. Though no matter how tired Clary was, she recognised him instantly. She was going down, back to her apartment that she knew would be empty since Jon was out with Izzy; and he was most likely going up, back to one of the hotel rooms offered in skyrise to event guests. The whole time they waited for the elevator, neither of them said a single world, apparently both determined to avoid each other's eyes; but then the elevator arrived, and Clary's cheery boss stepped out surprisingly. His eyes lit up with fake surprise when he saw the man next to her, holding out a welcoming hand.
"Mr Wayland! Hoping to skip on me, I see!" Hodge accused with a very friendly tone, even though Clary easily saw the edge of frost buried with the experience of working in relation with clients.
This was probably one of the reason why she liked Hodge more than just as her boss, but also as a friend. He was a jovial man in his late sixties with the attitude of a young man, and also an acting grandpa whenever she needed advice. For some reason, he was one of the only people who understood her deal with love, and she always respected him for it.
The man, Mr Wayland, shifted a little so Hodge could get out of the elevator; and he explained after he shook the outstretched hand. "Nice to see you, Mr. Starkweather. I think the jet lag is finally catching up on me. I'll see you in the morning during the consultation brunch, I'll be more humorable than likely."
At the sound of his voice, Clary almost silently melted right next to her boss. Maybe she had never been into blondes, but men with deep voices had always been her weakness. And if Mr Wayland's voice was anything, it was deep. Deep, calm, sure of himself. Clary felt it resonate to her very core.
She shook her head to dismiss any naughty thoughts she could have. At least until she would be alone. After all, nothing was prohibiting her from imagining things she could do to Mr Wayland's body ... With urgency, Clary pressed on the button of the elevator, when Hodge's older voice brought her to reality:
"Maybe I should let Clary sell you the benefits of working with us. She's my favourite employee. Mostly because, besides being very popular with bringing in clients, she always brings delicious homemade cupcakes on Mondays."
Clary politely smiled at the compliment, making a mental note to chide Hodge later for making her sound like a hooker.
It was as if he didn't want to, as if he was forced to flicker his eyes in her direction; but still, he did it. And as soon as his golden eyes focused on Clary's, he held her gaze, forbidding her to even think of looking elsewhere.
It seemed as if the world stopped spinning beneath their feet for a second and everyone ceased to exist. Everyone but them. His eyes were deep, smouldering and she didn't bother fooling herself. He wanted her, Clary could feel it. It was like he was pulling her into himself just through that stare, drowning her into an incommensurable desire that she was gladly falling for.
Imperceptibly, he leaned a little bit closer to her, when Clary finally remembered Hodge's presence next to them; and so she tore her gaze away, looking back at her boss with that same polite smile that she had from the beginning.
"I'm sure that ... Clary is absolutely wonderful at her job. But like I said, jet lag is catching up on me, and I need a clear mind before making any sort of decision," Mr Wayland said with a voice that was calling for no argument, though Clary could swear that it was more hoarse than the first time he talked.
Hodge made a small pout, before turning his friendly face to Clary and delegating with a teasing voice whatever task he had to accomplish with Mr Wayland, on her: "Take care of him then, dear. I want him to say yes tomorrow morning, Clary. Whatever it takes."
The three of them chuckled under the rules of propriety, and Hodge left the two young people to head back to the party, not without playfully looking at them first. Clary distinctively heard Mr Wayland's breathing get deeper as soon as they were alone again, and she pushed the button of the elevator once again all the while wondering if it wouldn't be better for her to just take the stairs at this point. She was about to combust just by standing next to him outside the elevator, so what would it be like in an enclosed space?
She shivered slightly just thinking about it.
With resolution, Clary cleared her throat so she could inform the man standing next to her that she was going to take the stairs; when the elevator doors dinged and opened. Mr Wayland held his hand to the doors and gallantly indicated her to go first with a heated look, and Clary had no other choice than to get into the elevator.
"Up or down?" Mr Wayland asked, his voice further than Clary expected. She murmured that she was going down, her eyes cast upon the floor. But still, her peripheral vision caught a glimpse of something she wasn't supposed to see as the elevator went up. And before she knew it, she was looking back up, locking once again their gaze together.
She felt her heartbeat accelerate, the current of heat underneath her skin rising, and desire sparking all of her nerve ends in a catastrophic firework. She didn't think that she felt an urge so strong ever since she's been sexually active, and a part of her mind was scowling her for putting her body under so much frustration when she could feel so much better by just letting go. And just as she thought that she would overdo her instincts, and just satisfy her urges to jump on that man, Mr Wayland was behind her.
His voice was hot, low and hoarse right against her exposed neck. "Oh, fuck it."
Clary didn't give herself time to process. She just let go as they reached for each other at the same time.
She turned on her heels, and his arms were instantly there. Their bodies collided at the exact same moment their lips meet. He was overwhelming, consuming, his lips hard and demanding against hers. Her mouth opened willingly against his pressure, all of her gasps and moans swallowed without sound. One hand fisted in her hair and the other pressed against the small of her back. Inhaling sharply, Clary felt him pressed against her stomach, and she felt her knees go weak as she sagged against him, looping two arms around his neck and weaving her fingers into his silky hair, needing to hold onto something to remind herself she wasn't dreaming.
He was walking her backwards, and she barely noticed the slam as his hands catch up her wrists and hold them above her with bruising pressure. She wasn't complaining, only reaching out with her teeth and catching his full lower lip. Clary tugged with no hesitation, awarded with a deep groan that reverberated throughout her.
He pulled away savagely, and his lips moved to her jaw and worked his way down Clary's neck. She tilted her neck back willingly, panting hard against his burning brand against her skin. His fingers dug in, hard, on her thighs exposed by the slit of her dress, giving him the leverage to lift her up and position himself between her legs. She hooked her ankles around his hips without question, the lack of his lips on hers leaving nothing to block the drawn out moan at the feel of him hard and insistent between her legs. She didn't even care.
Still, he attacked her neck with an angry force, and she could feel the dark grin against her neck at her short, stifled yells each time he pushed himself against her with force. In a desperate attempt to keep a little bit of control over herself, Clary knotted her fingers even tighter in his hair and bit her lower lip, hard. But before any of them could start getting carried away, the elevator doors dinged pleasantly, announcing the top floor.
Mr Wayland tightened his hold on Clary, letting go of the skin of her neck to kiss her lips again; and he walked them out of the elevator. They never stopped making out all the way until his room, though Clary vaguely wondered how he managed to carry her and open the door of his hotel room at the same time. But the thought was quickly dismissed when he surprisingly delicately lied her down on the bed. All she could think at this instant was to get this gorgeous man on top of her.
But he actually put some distance between them, straightening up suddenly, eyes wide and dark, and his breath hard. He seemed even taller looking down at her, a hand fisted in his hair.
"You shouldn't be here," He finally said, his eyes looking everywhere but at her; and Clary swallowed the hurt that the determination of his voice inflicted on her. She was too horny, and too drunk to let it show, anyway. So instead, she rose slowly to her feet until she stood as close as you could to a person without touching them, craning her neck to take him all in.
"Don't you want me?" She asked innocently with less than pure eyes, watching him suck in a hard breath as she reached out and felt him through his trousers with the lightest touch. His adam's apple moved as he swallowed hard, tipping his head back with obviously weakening resolution.
"I should say no," He replied roughly, but he still looked at her with the look he regarded her with before pinning her to the wall. "I should tell you to go away, because I am not that kind of man, no matter how I just made it look, and we shouldn't be doing this."
If she had been less horny and more sober, Clary would have probably seen clear through his words. If she hadn't been so sure that he wanted her as well, she would have called it a quit. But she didn't. She just luxuriously smiled up at him with a red lipped smile she knew damn well could make the strongest men fall, her fingers already subtly pulling his belt out of the loops.
"Maybe you should, Mr. Wayland..." She trailed, not missing the way his breath caught in his throat at the sound of his name.
Her fingers hooked inside his waistband, pulling down his slacks and boxers in one smooth moment. She paused a moment to take him in, the ball inside her stomach tightening deliciously; before she slid down to her knees and peered up at him under her lashes. His eyes widened as he realised her intentions, his hands fisting at his sides.
He was about to retort something, but Clary cut him off by wrapping her mouth around him. With satisfaction, she heard him groan angrily as his hips involuntarily jerked upward, pushing him a little bit further into her mouth. One of his hands wrapped its way into her hair almost as if he wasn't aware of what he was doing, just responding to human nature. Feeling a small lick of satisfaction unfurl inside her, Clary made it her personal mission to make him lose any sort of control.
That was what she liked the most about going down on a guy. Of course, she liked being the cause of their pleasure, but what she liked the most was knowing that she could make them lose that control they were so proud of having. She loved being in complete power of any sort of pleasure at that exact moment, and she loved how this position could show the true nature of a guy, and it worked spectacularly well on Mr. Wayland.
So, after taking him as deep as she could in her mouth, she let go a little of his length and swirled her tongue around the tip of his member, earning a loud, guttural groan moving through his body and only spurring her on. His hand tightened in her hair but still resisted from taking control, letting her have free reign over him.
She kept on playing with him for a few minutes, her tongue following his sensitive vein and dangerously teasing his nerves. She couldn't hear anything apart from his uneven breathes and harsh pants, the humming of her own mouth against him. And at some point, he had enough of her torture. Mr Wayland made a low, dark noise of frustration before stepping away and yanking her off of her knees to throw her onto the bed.
Without having have to be asked, Clary removed her dress while keeping her eyes on him as he did the same, all reservations obviously gone. It took barely a second until Mr. Wayland was naked, hands pushing her down onto the bed and lips demanding another kiss as he shifted between her legs; but Clary stopped him before he could even try to do anything else.
She pulled away from his lips, annoyance colouring her tone. "Wait, aren't you forgetting something?" She always hated having a 'condom talk' in the middle of having sex, because she always felt that it was slightly ruining the mood. And this time wasn't any different.
Mr Wayland seemed a little bit taken aback by her words, like he didn't understand what she was talking about. And so, Clary heaved with exasperation and reached for her purse on the floor, quickly grabbing a condom from the pocket and handing it to him. His eyes sparkled with understanding, and he took the protection out of her hands. Clary waited a few seconds before Mr. Wayland grabbed her by the back of her neck and pulled her up and into a kiss, one that spoke of something much more promising and darker than any kiss in the elevator. She moaned from anticipation, keeping a memory of that kiss in her mind for further use during lonely nights.
Clary couldn't help but yelp of pleasure once he was finally inside her. For a moment, neither of them moved, Clary groaning softly against his neck. She hesitantly pushed her hips forward, waiting for him to react. Oh, and he did.
With a sudden, aggressive force, Mr Wayland started pounding into her ruthlessly, his left hand fisting tightly a handful of her red hair as the other was marking her thigh. She tipped her head back and let out groan by groan, her entire body rocking because of him. At each of his thrust, Clary felt something build up in her lower stomach, that sweet agony that she loved so much. And though she was thrilled to feel it becoming stronger by the minute, she held on desperately for a few moments longer before she let loose. His body against hers, the hunger and lust he took her with, it needed to last.
Mr Wayland seemed to be everywhere. His hips thrusted without letting up on his punishing rhythm, while his free hand savagely ran all over her body and created even more chaos amongst her. His lips were sucking on the junction of her neck and shoulders, biting down with just the right amount of pleasure. Clary could feel her peak coming, and she wished she knew his name, and not only his surname. Somehow, saying 'Mr Wayland' felt like it would break whatever connection they had at the moment. So, she bit her lip to hold her cries, and moaned even louder as Earth started shattering beneath her.
"Jace," He growled in her ear in an uneven, as if he heard her thoughts and pounding impossibly harder into her, making her scream out of pleasure.
Clary closed her eyes, enjoying her bliss to the fullest, feeling it coming in waves to her; and when Jace suddenly pinched her nipple with bruising pressure, all the while keeping his hard and angry thrusts, she couldn't help the "God, Jace!" That escaped her mouth as her insides went limp, turned into mush, her back arching into Jace and lifting off the mattress.
Jace slowed a bit, letting her get down of her cloud nine, yet, still thrusting in her; and though she had her eyes closed, Clary could still feel his hot gaze on her. She smiled with that post-bliss glow, and felt his hand caressing her face, making her snap her eyes open at the unusualness of this gesture.
As soon as she met his golden eyes, he clashed their lips together and increased his rhythm again. His tongue invaded her mouth while both of his hands grated her body downward, nails lightly scratching at her skin and making her squirm. When his hold was at her hips, he moved suddenly, standing on his knees while he was holding Clary by the waist, half of her body in the air. Not that she was complaining with this new position. Jace had angled his hips in a certain way, so that now, he hit her in that special spot that guys so rarely found.
This time, he went even harder on her, making a minute before look like child's play. He felt urgent against her, rougher, his groans joining her whimpers and heated whispers of his name underneath her breath. His grip on her hipbones burned into her, and Clary already knew the bruises that would pepper her skin tomorrow.
She could see pearls of sweat forming on his forehead, the wild look in his eyes as he stared down at her, and before she knew it, he thrusted inside her so hard she couldn't help the scream that ripped up her throat as he stayed there, groaning out profanities as he found his release.
He paused, attempting to catch his breath, but Clary wasn't finished yet; and so she circled her hips slowly, wrapping her four limbs around his hard body and moaning at the sensation. He was still rather hard, which was perfect for her, especially when he snaked his hand between them and stroked her with light, teasing fingers, all the while letting her get her high as she wanted. When the pressure started building back again, she closed her eyes and snapped her head backward, biting her lips; and Jace leaned in, increasing his movements as he hushed in her ear with a sleepy danger: "Come for me, Clary. Let me see you come undone beneath me, once again."
A sharp thrust accompanied his last words, and without further indications, Clary let go, swearing loudly as her body finally released all the tension it built up. Out of breath, she tried to steady her heart as Jace rolled out of her, landing next to her in the mess of sheets. For a minute only his panting breath and her quiet gasps filled the hot air. This was her least favourite part of one-night-stands, the awkward moments after. But before she could try to gather herself to get up and leave, Jace was back next to her, securing her in his arms as he murmured: "If I wasn't so tired, I'd take you right away all over again. You are so hot when you come."
His voice was even deeper than before, and heavy with sleep. Clary could tell that he was seconds away from slumber, and she pondered with herself to try and argue that she should go. But she missed cuddling, and he was already half snoring, not to mention that she was down right tired herself and could already feel the aches setting in. So, she allowed herself this little dent in her hookup rules, and fell asleep in the mess of sheets.
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When Clary woke up with the weight of an arm on her body and the feeling of something hard against her lower back, she couldn't help but smile. It had been a long time since she had morning sex. Ever since her last relationship. Usually, she never allowed a guy to sleep with her because it always led the guy into thinking that they could start something more casual than a one time thing. And still, she spent the night with that guy. Jace Wayland. And apparently, she was not going to regret it.
"Morning, beautiful," He said roughly, his deep voice slightly hoarse and making Clary weak in her knees. Deep voices were definitely a big turn on for her.
She was about to brutally bring them back to reality by stating the obvious, that she needed to leave; when Jace's fingers found their way in her. She whimpered, her body folding into him and tipping her neck back, letting Jace's biting kiss return to her neck. A low moan escaped her lips before she could contain it. After all, what bad could come out of this?
"Mmm, that feels good," She let him know in an airy voice, rubbing her ass against his erection as his fingers kept on making her 'feel good'. She felt his lips spread into a smirk as he replied, fingers casually flicking against her.
"Does it?"
"Mmh mmh. Really good!" She ended with a yelp when he slipped one of his fingers deeper inside.
And suddenly, she felt something else than fingers. Something that wasn't flesh, and wasn't as hot as a human body part. Something that felt like metal. She froze for a second, analysing their position and trying to figure out which one of his hands was in her; and her heart missed a bit. "What the fuck?" She cried out as she manoeuvred out of his tight grip, jumping out of the bed and staring at the faulty hand.
There, catching the morning sun's light, was a golden ring. A plain, thick gold band, circling the fourth finger of his left hand. "Oh God! You're fucking married!" She accused, stating the obvious with horror and anger.
Jace got out of the bed himself and made a move to walk to her, his hand reaching for her arm as a confused scowl was clouding his face; but Clary jumped back so there wouldn't be any contact between them. "Don't! Don't talk to me! Don't touch me!"
She realised that the two of them were naked, and so she bolted to her cloths sprawled on the floor, cursing at herself and her stupidity. How come she didn't see or feel the ring yesterday night? When his hands were all over her?! How did this simple and yet important detail pass through her eyes? How did she end up in this situation?! And why didn't he say anything? At least some fair warning to tell her the kind of situation she was getting herself into.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" She cursed underneath her breath, barely taking time to get properly dressed. As soon as she had her underwear and dress on, she rushed out of the hotel room, blocking out any half-assed talk that Jace could try to feed her with.
She had her purse hanging from a finger while her heels were clutched in her hands, and when the elevator doors opened for her, she dashed in it, pressing the stop button as soon as the doors closed. Once she was sure that she could let go, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. It was obvious that she had an agitated night, her red hair was all over the place, some of her curls even turning into frizz. Her makeup was smudged, and she thanked herself for being the natural makeup kind of girl, so she wouldn't look like a horror movie monster at the moment. With all the difficulty of the world, Clary swallowed all the while tucking her clothes properly, and then, she finally dared looking straight into the green eyes of her reflection.
Clary never considered herself a bad person. She wasn't a good girl, but still, she was a good person. She had morals. She donated to charity. She rarely talked badly of someone who wasn't there to defend themselves. She never killed or injured anyone on purpose. So, yes, Clary considered herself a good person.
Until today ...
Today, she became the other woman. Today, she was that girl that she hated so much. Today, she was the home-wrecker. She always blamed the parties equally when it came to cheating people. Two were needed to cheat. But today ... today she felt dirty. She felt that she was more to blame than he was. He tried to shoo her off, and she still pursued with drunken, insane reasoning, claiming she was doing whatever it takes. She felt like she was ... a whore. Not because she had randomly sex with some guy, but because she helped a man betray the trust that a woman put in him.
And so, as her reflection was scowling her for her reckless and reprehensible behaviour, Clary fell on her knees and cried, shame and guilt clouding her heart.
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‼️READ THE NOTE BELLOW‼️
💚Your thoughts and opinions are always welcomed💚
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~ So, first of all, I want to make something clear. It's not because a woman wants to live her life without relationships getting in her way, that it makes her a failure. It's not because you're a woman that you can't have one-night-stands, or that you should feel guilty about them. Women can do whatever the hell they want with their body and mind as long as it doesn't affect other people's lives.
~ Now, that being said, this happens to be a little something I came up with, I don't even know how. I just came up with it. So, here is my proposition. I could turn this one-shot into a real story, if you are up for it. If I do so, know from the start that this will be a cheating story. Like it was just stated upward, Jace is married to someone that is not Clary. They have a five years difference so he is 31 while she is 26, and he is only married, there are no kids involved. I can promise you a happy ending for Clace. A real happy ending, and not a sour one, but a real dovey lovey happy ending. But I can also promise drama before getting there.
~ Know that this is something that I never do. I never let people know of the outcome of one of my stories, because I feel like cheating on them (pun non intended), and ruining the story for them. But I know that some of you might get thrown off by the cheating approach of this story. I just want to give you something to hang on to, if you are even interested in turning this into a story, anyway.
~ So let me know if you are up to turn this into a story, or if I should just let it the way it is.
Love, Mina
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