Disclaimer: They aren't mine, they're Cassandra Clare's characters and world.

AN: So this is the last chapter for this story, as Clary's birthday comes to a close. Rock Steady is continued with Playing Games, however...

Clary stretched her sore limbs under the covers. The events of her previous evening with Jace had definitely taken a toll on her body. Much like her training, he body felt overused and tired, despite the adrenaline she gained from both experiences. Not one for lounging in bed, Clary got up and headed to the bathroom. She wasn't surprised to find Jace shaped hand marks on her hips, nor the bite mark on her shoulder—that would be a hard one to explain to her mother if she ever found out. What did startle her was the wild look she had. Her hair was big and frizzy, her cheeks still bright pink, and her eyes looked tired still, despite feeling so awake.

She knew Jace wouldn't approve, but Clary hadn't thought she'd be spending the night, so she used his toothbrush to clean off her teeth. Satisfied with one part of her appearance, Clary set to work on her unruly hair. She had very little to work with in Jace's bathroom—just the tap water and a hair brush he never used, kept under the sink.

Her hair was easy enough to fix to something tame, but the rest of her appearance would just take time. If she just had some cover up... but Clary didn't dwell on the fact, instead she went back into the room to find her clothes. Unsurprisingly, they were nowhere to be found on the floor. Clary checked his dresser, and low and behold, they were folded neatly in the top drawer.

Clary had stopped wearing her jeans for a reason; they fit way too low on her hips, exposing much of her battered hips. She supposed an iratze would be logical, but she also doubted Jace healed his wounds with his stele—he would wear them with pride, so Clary would too. Her shirt did a little more covering, but she still found herself incisively pulling at the hem to bring it down over the top of her jeans.

She sighed once, knowing that it would just be her and Jace for awhile anyway. There would be plenty of time for Clary to raid Isabelle's room for a jacket.

Finding the kitchen was easier than usual, the smell of burning bread and overcooked eggs filled up the hallway. The first thing Clary saw was Church sprawled out on the floor by a pair of feet. Standing above the cat wasn't Jace, though, it was Isabelle. She was wearing a light, summery dress, very innocent looking for her. Her hair was pulled back into two braids, hanging even longer down her back than Clary's own hair did. Clary cleared her throat, announcing her presence. Isabelle turned around quickly, a huge smile on her face.

"Happy Birthday Clary!" she announced. "I'm making breakfast, where's Jace?"

Clary was going to tell her she wasn't sure where, when a pair of strong arms enveloped her waist. Clary only jumped slightly. "Right here," he said huskily. Clary had to will her cheeks to remain a neutral colour. It felt as if a large bubble of anticipation had finally burst from Clary's chest, one that she hadn't known was there until she saw Jace. "I went and got pancakes, Izzy. But I wasn't expecting you here, so there's only enough for two."

If she was upset, Isabelle didn't show it. "Well, that's alright. I already ate at Simon's," she shrugged, dumping the ruined food in the garbage. Clary was glad she wasn't going to have to try and eat any of it. "So," the brunette stated again, "what are we going to do today?"

Jace let go of Clary, walked to the table and sat down. "Eat first, plan later."

Clary smiled at his response, he was so nonchalant this morning. He didn't look any different, but Clary knew he must have felt it—she felt it.

"Honestly, Jace. Plates couldn't help," Clary scolded him. Jace just shrugged his shoulders and slouched down further in his chair. It was never easy for Clary to grab the plates down, with her short height, and the cupboards being very tall, she had to go on her tip toes to reach just what she wanted. Clary hadn't noticed how much her shirt rose up until there was a loud gasp from Isabelle.

"Clary," she breathed, "What happened?"

Embarrassment immediately found its way onto Clary's cheeks and chest, and she crossed her arms over herself for some minor comfort. "I... I..." she stumbled for words.

"Oh, just spit it out honey," another voice sounded from the doorway. Clary looked over to see Magnus leaning against the doorframe. He was dressed rather plain for the warlock, with red pants and sequined black shirt. His hair was even still slightly damp, no sparkles or spikes. Clary wondered for a moment if Alec's fashion sense was rubbing off on him, but thought otherwise. Magnus still had all his normal make up on, bright blue lipstick, glittery eye shadow, he was still the same. Alec was there too, already making his way to the table, dressed in the same clothes from the night before.

"I was..." Clary couldn't think fast enough. "I was attacked by a Forsaken last night, remember?"

Isabelle's eyes narrowed in on Clary, eyeing the rest of her body. The flimsy straps of her tank top did nothing to cover her shoulders. "And it bit you?" Isabelle asked in utter fascination.


"Why didn't you use your stele?" Jace had piped up. He had risen from the table and was towering over her now, a devilish grin on his face. Clary thought she was going to die of humiliation.

"I forgot."

"You forgot," Magnus mimicked her tone, quoting the words he spoke. Clary began to think that perhaps lying was just pushing her further into a corner. She or Jace would have to explain themselves eventually.

Clary glared at Jace, standing perfectly at ease. "What do you think Jace?" she asked him hotly. "Care to show them your back?"

Jace's smile fell from his face quite fast. He wasn't expecting anything to be thrown his way. But he recovered quickly, pulling his shirt up and letting everyone in the room examine his perfectly toned back. Nothing. There was nothing out of the ordinary on his skin. It just looked tanned and beautiful as always. He replaced his shirt and took a quick glance at Clary's face, his smug expression unmoving. Jace was challenging her.

"Fine," she said impatiently. "Jace, give me your stele." Clary held out her hand for it, but Jace did nothing. Not wanting to wait, Clary walked over to him, dug both her hands into his pockets, finding the stele in his left, and drew it back out. She made quick work on her wrist, tracing the familiar run, feeling the slight burning sensation run across her arm, and then she could feel the bruises healing instantly. She lifted her shirt enough on both sides, showing off her now perfect skin, daring anyone in the room to mention them again.

"And they've always said the pen is mightier than the sword, but I think I've only just begun to grasp that concept," Jace commented. Clary had to roll her eyes at that.

Alec coughed loudly, and Clary wondered if he was just trying to cover up a laugh. He hadn't said anything the whole time.

"Do you have anything to say, Alec?" Clary asked him, turning her full gaze on his face.

Alec seemed to cower slightly. Clary waited for him to answer. "I don't see what the big deal is. You and Jace had sex; that much is obvious. So what? It's not like you haven't before..." Alec trailed off, looking over at Magnus. Apparently Alec assumed too much. "What? I see the way you two act around each other. I just assumed you've been going at it awhile."

"Oh, honey, you are so far from the truth," Magnus scolded his boyfriend lightly. "Last night was their first time."

Alec's mouth formed the perfect "O" as understanding dawned on him. He grinned sheepishly at Clary, then flushed when he looked at Jace.

"You know how it is, darling, like our first night together. You couldn't even move your arms up to put on a shirt after what I had done to your—"

"Magnus!" Alec complained loudly. "Is that really necessary?"

Clary wanted to go and hide in the closet—better yet, she wanted to go home and hide under the covers in her bed. But the conversation seemed to drift away from Clary, her mind focusing on other things, like the way Jace was looking at her. His eyes were filled with lust, just as they had been the night before. She wondered if he was remembering just as vividly as she was this morning. It made Clary shiver with excitement.

Stop it! she told herself, you cannot let yourself be turned on by just a simple gaze. Especially with the others in the room. Deciding it was time for a change of conversation, Clary announced: "I'm hungry and I'm sure the pancakes are getting col. Can I just eat now?"

Everyone seemed to get the hint; Isabelle murmured something about calling Simon again, Magnus took a hold of Alec's hand, a wicked grin on his lips, and then Clary was all alone with Jace again. They stared at each other for a minute, Clary trying to gage Jace's emotional state. By the way he was cocking his head to the side, leaning against the counter, and frowning, Clary guessed he wasn't so happy anymore. Her birthday already felt over, and her shoulders slumped with the realisation of it.

No one was in a celebratory mood after her outburst.

"So," Jace began, "what now?"

Clary was annoyed that he thought that she only wanted the others out of the room to be alone with him. "I'm going to eat, I'm starved."

"Me too," he agreed. Their eyes met again, the tension melting away as they both realised the absurdity of it all.

"My mother and Luke cannot find out," Clary informed Jace, knowing he would insinuate vulgar things around them, if given the chance. "Your parents too," she added for good measure. "And while you're at it you'd better pray that I don't kill you."

Jace held his hands up in mock-prayer, "Oh Lord, give me chastity but do not give it yet."

Clary swatted him on the shoulder, Jace grabbing her hand before she could pull it back. He kissed each finger one by one, keeping his eyes on her hand. Then he kissed her lips softly, reminding her of the many evenings they spent in Idris after the war, slowly learning each other's sensitive areas. Hers was the skin under her ear, his, the base of his throat.

They broke apart, Jace sighing for once, and sat down at the table to eat.

The pancakes were delicious, drizzled with honey and filled with berries. Clary had to stop herself from licking her plate clean. Jace cleaned up the dishes, allowing Clary to watch him as he worked swiftly in the kitchen. She admired his talents, the fighting he could do, the way he played piano, and how he knew his way around a kitchen.

There was a trilling sound that rang out in the room, and it took Clary a second to realise that her cell phone was ringing—how did it get there? She opened it up and spoke: "Hello?"

"Clary! Happy Birthday!" It was her mother, Jocelyn. "When will you be home, sweetie? Luke and I have a present for you."

Home. Clary had already forgotten that she did not live at the Institute. It had felt so natural to fall asleep with Jace. Now she felt dread at the thought of going back to the book store home. "I'll be on my way really soon, mom," Clary decided was the best response.

The two said their good-byes and Clary hung up her phone, sadness washing over her. She rubbed her eyes, not letting herself cry, and turned to Jace. "I have to go home. Mom and Luke want to see me on my birthday."

Jace's expression dropped a little. "Of course, I'll walk you to the train."

"You're not coming with me?" she asked.

"Maybe later, I've got something I need to do."

"On my birthday."

Jace hesitated; Clary knew he was holding back information. "Yes. Now let's go before the others come back to tease you."

They walked to the elevator, Jace keeping her hand in his all the way down to the street. Their walk was very short, and despite Clary's slow pace, they were at the subway in less than thirty minutes.

"Are you sure you can't come?" Clary pleaded one last time.

"Not now," Jace answered. He bent down to kiss her chastely, and when he pulled back Clary could see a twinkle in his eye.

"Jace..." she tried to start. He kissed her one last time and was gone before she could figure out what he was up to.

Clary opened the back door to Luke's home; her mother was in the kitchen, waiting for her arrival. "Clary!" she sang, "Happy Birthday!" Her mother's voice was loud enough to draw the attention of Luke, and soon he was in the kitchen too, hugging her and whishing her well. They presented her with a small gift, which she unwrapped to find a new set of drawing tools. She placed them on the counter, reminding herself to take them to her room later.

"How was dinner last night?" Luke asked after Clary sat back down at the table, a tone of authority lining his voice. Clary thought he may have been meaning her night with Jace, then realised he must have been referring to the Forsaken. It seemed like months ago that she had fought the warrior and created a new rune.

"Terrible, I was attacked by Forsaken and didn't even make it to the restaurant." Clary went on to explain in detail the attack, the rune, and Jace showing up right after.

Jocelyn seemed horrified by Clary's account of the previous evening, her face a mask of shock. "And it just came out of nowhere?"

"Yes, but I did manage to kill it. Mom," she spoke softly, "I'm fine, I survived. You don't have to worry about me anymore, I've been trained well. I'm still training. In fact, I think I'm ready to learn some more runes."

Clary knew that her ramblings were only to appease her mother and Luke. She hated to see them upset.

When Jocelyn seemed satisfied with Clary's answer, she went back to her studio in the back, continuing to work on her paintings. Luke stood in the kitchen, a frown upon his face. Clary had a feeling that Luke knew more than he was letting on, or at least had some ideas.

"Now Clary," he began in a low tone, loud enough for Clary, but too quiet for Jocelyn. "I know you and Jace have been together for a couple years now, but curfew is curfew. I had to lie to your mother about you calling to say you were spending the night with Isabelle after your dinner." Luke seemed to be struggling to keep his fatherly composure. "And despite the young age most Shadowhunters get married, this is not Alicante and I'm way too young to be a grandfather..." he trailed off, much to Clary's horror.

"Luke!" she exclaimed. "You can't be trying to have a sex talk with me? My mom went over this with me last year. I don't need a reminder."

Luke held up his hands in defeat, "Okay, fine. But I don't want to hear anything, or see anything, or I swear on the Angel, you will be grounded until you are thirty. Oh," he added quickly, "Jocelyn's making dinner tonight, so don't make any plans." Clary wasn't sure if Luke was insinuating a double meaning.

Instead, said nothing; Luke had made himself mighty clear. So when he left the room, she immediately ran to hers, not wanting him to come back and decide they needed further discussion.

She stayed in her room for the remainder of the morning and well into the afternoon, attacking her art book with dozens of scribbles. Her subconscious mind was fixated on one thing—Jace. Whenever she went to draw something innocent and simple it turned into him. She drew a circle, only to turn it into the muscular, scarred stomach of her lover. She tried again, a triangle, somehow becoming the jagged tooth in Jace's devilish mouth, his lips blossoming on the page.

Distractedly, Clary tossed the booklet onto the floor, no longer satisfied with only pictures of Jace. She wanted—no—needed him to be there with her. A familiar ache was beginning to settle in between her thighs and Clary was startled by the reaction her body had just to the thought of Jace. This was a new sensation for her, and though she may never mention it to Jace, she liked how excited she felt just thinking about him. Clary couldn't wait to see him again, despite being allusive to his current actions. She wondered when he was going to arrive—he had said he would come over eventually—she had been seen off by him hours ago now.

There was a loud trill throughout the house and Clary jumped at the sound. It took her a moment to recognize the sound of the doorbell announcing someone. Jace! her mind shouted, and without a second thought she ran to the front door. The lock on the door was a bit tricky to open, but after a quick flick of her wrist, Clary opened the door, and there stood Jace.

She felt an immense wave of relief spill over her. Clary couldn't help but throw her arms around his shoulders and capture his mouth in hers. Jace obliged willingly, wrapping his arms around her waist, fisting some of her shirt in his hands.

There was a loud clearing of the throat behind them, and Clary immediately let go of Jace, feeling the all-too-familiar blush betraying her emotions. "Sorry children," Luke emphasized the second word, "but dinner is ready, if you're hungry." He shrugged his shoulders, but his eyes were steady, daring them both to reject his offer. He then turned around and headed into the kitchen.

Jace was the first to react, pulling Clary by the hand, sending an electric jolt up her arm. She would never tire of the intensity between the two of them, the constant fireworks that shot through her body with the simplest of touches.

The smell of spaghetti was strong and wonderful to Clary. She could smell the basil and oregano filling the air, mixed with the garlic bread on the small table. Jocelyn was busy dishing out pasta for all four of them, and Clary wondered if she had known Jace would turn up just in time for dinner. She certainly didn't seem surprised when he said 'hello' to her.

Luke sat across from Jace, and Clary had the slightest suspicion that he would be all but breathing down his neck the entire night. Jace seemed unfazed by the werewolf's action. Clary fidgeted in her seat.

Dinner went on without a hitch, though, and Luke seemed to relax after awhile, Jocelyn telling tales of when they were younger and learning to fight. Clary had to smile at her mother's enthusiasm, despite her obvious exclusion of Valentine. Clary watched Jace for a moment, thinking he may have picked up on her mother's omission. If he was upset, Jace didn't show it. He laughed at all Jocelyn's funny parts, ate heaping bites of food in between words, and even poked fun at Luke.

"So," Jocelyn said once the dishes were cleared of the table. "I know you came here for another reason, besides it being Clary's birthday, Jace."

Jace smiled briefly. His eyes darted to Clary, and she could see a hesitation in them. This must be the reason why he wouldn't come over earlier, Clary told herself. She waited for Jace to continue.

"I was talking to Maryse and Robert earlier," he said it like a statement. Clary almost wanted to roll her eyes at his dramatics. "And they agree with me that it would make more sense if Clary were to live at the Institute, for training purposes. It's hard to train properly when you have to travel all the way from Brooklyn in the morning. Clary loses her concentration easily when she has to travel—"

"Absolutely not!" Luke surprised Clary with his adamant rejection. He looked like he might phase into a wolf. Clary knew he was overreacting and rolled her eyes.

It was Jocelyn, though, who surprised them all. "I think it's a wonderful idea, Lucian." Jocelyn rarely used Luke's real name. It was on reserve for special moments, one like this. "She's worked so hard for the last two years; it would only make sense for her to progress in her training. And if it means moving out, then I'm not going to hold her back," Jocelyn spoke to Luke, but was looking at Clary. "I trust her to make smart decisions."

Clary felt a bit guilty. Surely her mother knew more than she was letting on. She avoided everyone's gaze.

"Clary," it was Jace who spoke directly to her, taking her left hand in his. "If you don't want to move in, I understand. It's a big step. I just think it would be vital to your training." Jace spoke with such honesty that Clary looked at him, letting herself get lost in his tawny eyes.

She found herself nodding. Jace smiled so large Clary thought he would break his jaw.

The thought finally made its way into her brain; they would be living together, under the same roof, with little parental supervision.

Clary couldn't ask for a better birthday.

"Are you staying the night, Jace?" Luke asked warily.

Jace looked uncomfortable. "I was actually thinking I would just head out... it's getting late." He looked at Clary for help.

"It's only eight," she said.

There was a sigh from Jocelyn, who had been silent since Clary had accepted Jace's proposal. "It is Clary's birthday," she stated. "You can stay the night here, but just this once."

Clary, finding her mother's actions this evening very strange, shot her mother a very confused glance. "You're sure, mom?"

"Yes. You are and adult now. I expect you will also be receiving money from the Clave within a month, since you are a Shadowhunter. If you want to be an adult, I'm going to have to treat you like one too." Jocelyn put her arms around Clary, a sweet hug. Clary smiled, happy that her mother was acting so... adult like.

Jace waited patiently as Clary thanked her mom, hugged Luke as well, and grabbed him by the hand, whisking them into her small bedroom. She made short work with the door, a faint click resounding throughout the room as she locked them in, and drew a small rune of privacy above the handle. Jace made his way over to the bed, making himself comfortable. Clary joined him, wrapping her arms around his chest, seemingly content to just stay wrapped up with him.

Jace, on the other hand, had other plans.

"You know, Clary," he began, an air of humour in his voice, "I was thinking we go for a new record."

"But we don't have any records," she replied dryly.

Jace wasn't sure if she was joking or being serious, so he took the initiative to show her exactly what he meant. After being together for two years, Jace knew the easiest way to make Clary putty in his very masculine hands. Sex or no sex.

And he was thinking sex.

He ran a hand through her hair, eliciting a quite sigh from Clary. The simplest things could make her sigh. Jace wanted more than just content, he wanted to see her horny and raw and begging for some sort of release that only he could supply. He worried for a moment, when he drew her in for a kiss, if she wasn't in the mood, or if she would be too sore still. His worries were for nothing when Clary grabbed the front of his shirt and slammed her mouth onto his.

Obviously she was ready for another round.

Jace laughed lightly, just the thought of Clary being a sex kitten seemed amusing. She was never aware of how influential she was over his moods. He had taken countless cold showers after her training shifts at the Institute, trying to clear his mind of her tight, muscled body, covered in perspiration, unknowing of hot fucking hot she looked. Jace had to stop their make out sessions many times to avoid a hard-on, trying to stay as coy as possible over his body's need. He would not push her into anything.

Now, with Clary straddling his lap, Jace could let his mind wander, knowing that intimacy was no longer foreign between them. Sex had never been meaningful or even that fun with other girls, and Jace knew it was because he had never loved the other girls. He loved Clary, and he could feel the intensity between them, their love-making so much stronger because of it.

When Clary ground her hips against his, Jace revelled in the fact that he could let his body react the way he had refused to let it act for so long. He could feel the onset of his erection already, the tightening in his jeans already becoming uncomfortable. Jace grabbed Clary's ass, trying to release some of the tension he was feeling. Clary moaned loudly, then stopped herself, stopping their kissing.

"Oh my god!" Her eyes were wide with horror. "My mother and Luke are in the other room, and here we are going at it when they can surely hear everything—Luke especially. He is going to kill me!"

Jace stared at her. As much as he loved her, she was dense sometimes. "You did draw a privacy rune, did you not?"

Clary nodded slowly.

"Then they won't be able to hear anything. It should block out everything," he reassured her. Jace watched her face as realisation dawned on her beautiful features. He couldn't help but admire her beauty. Clary had grown into a woman, he noticed, and she still wasn't aware of how sexy she was. "Now," he said, wrapping his arms around her small waist, "before your outburst, I was quite enjoying myself. Care to continue?"

Clary hit him lightly in the shoulder, a playful action she often used. Jace grabbed her hand before she could pull it back and kissed a trail all the way up her arm. He could feel goose bumps erupting all the way along her arm, more turned on knowing he did that to her.

When he kissed her again, there was a renewed fire between them. It wasn't as fierce as their last time in the greenhouse, but it was stronger than their first time. Her lips tasted like honey, despite the dinner they had. He licked her top lip, silently asking for entrance, and plunged his tongue in when she obliged.

Clary was growing restless in his arms, and Jace could feel the peeks of her nipples hard and demanding through her bra and shirt. Being chivalrous gentleman that he was, Jace broke off their kiss to strip Clary of her thin shirt, and rid her perfect body of her bra. The only thing left on her skin was the Morgenstern ring he had given her. Clary never took it off, knowing it represented the complete difference between the two of them. They were both reminded of how far from siblings they were. Jace fingered the ring briefly, then left it to hang lightly off her neck.

He felt like a child in a candy store, staring at her breasts, not knowing where to start. He took the easiest path and grabbed them both, rubbing her peaks with his fingers. Jace loved to make Clary moan, and she did so easily.

In response, Clary grabbed onto Jace's shoulders, digging her nails into the fabric. Jace knew he wouldn't be getting away unscathed this night—Clary was being clear of the fact. There was no point delaying the obvious, so Jace took his hands off Clary for a fleeting second to remove his own shirt, allowing her access to his bare skin. He knew Clary loved the feel of his scars on her fingers, as only an artist truly could. She had never called them flaws, only character.

When their bare chests touched, Jace knew he wouldn't be able to continue kissing for much longer. Her breasts were his downfall. Clary must have sensed his urgency when he kissed her again because she pulled herself away from him and stood up. She mimicked his own devilish grin perfectly, standing in front of Jace. He moved to get up too, but Clary placed her palms on his chest. "You stay there," she demanded softly.

Clary continued by unzipping her jeans, slowly pulling them down off her hips, kicking them aside once they pooled at her feet. She was only in her panties now, and she had Jace drooling all over again for her. His crotch ached for her, and he couldn't stop himself from pulling off his own pants and boxers, much less graceful than he intended, letting them join Clary's. He tried to stand up again, to pull her onto the bed, but Clary still refused.

"I'm going to be on top this time," she stated. Jace's jaw almost dropped to the floor. When had she become so confident? Jace nodded, swallowing loudly. Excitement was growing inside him, eager to see what she could do, strapping his groin.

"Yes," was all Jace could say. Clary's mouth twitched into a half smile.

"Why don't you finish undressing me, though? These are going to get in the way." Clary fingered the elastic band riding on her hips. Jace nodded, running his fingers down her stomach first, feeling her soft skin, before slowly pulling off her thong—not before feeling the soft hairs between her legs. Jace could hear Clary's breathing becoming erratic, and his own breath hitched in his chest, even more so turned on.

He let his fingers play in her soft mound, knowing how much wet Clary could become with a few flicks of his skilled fingers. Clary's hips bucked against his hand, and he knew she was more than ready. He pulled his hand away from her dripping centre, licking her juices off his fingers. Clary groaned at the loss of touch.

"Come and get me then," he teased.

Clary surprised him by throwing her legs on either side of his hips, impaling herself on his hard erection, all is one swift movement. Jace moved his hands to her hips, careful to not leave such ugly marks on them again—he had the sneaking suspicion that she had left them to heal naturally out of pride.

Taking things slowly was not on Clary's mind, though, as she rocked her hips quickly against Jace's pelvis. He didn't protest; he was enjoying the view. Lying on the bed he could easily watch her body move in a wave-like motion, the muscles on her stomach contracting smoothly with her effort. Jace moved a hand up to cup her right breast, causing Clary to arch her back in contempt. Needing more contact, Jace grabbed a hold of her arms, pulling Clary down to rest on his chest. He had to bend his knees to pump himself into her, as Clary's hips could not rock as steadily as before. Jace didn't mind at all, with Clary flush against him he could capture her mouth once again in his, getting her to open hers to his tongue.

They kissed deeply until Clary pulled away to make short work of his left shoulder, biting just as hard as he had before. "Pay backs a bitch," she purred into his ear, licking the lobe.

"And a sex kitten at that," Jace murmured. Clary seemed pleased at his comment and kissed him again.

Clary sat back up, continuing her assault on his chest with her nails. Jace knew they would have to be healed before he slept, if only to keep any blood off the sheets—Clary was digging hard. Where the pain should have stilled him, Jace only felt more horny, his release starting to creep into his body. He continued to meet Clary's rocking, pumping into her with more force than before.

Needing more friction, Clary moved her hands onto her bare chest, squeezing and rolling her nipples in her own fingers. Just the sight of her pleasuring herself was enough to send Jace off into his orgasm. He groaned her name loudly, while holding her hips as she continued to ride him. His cock stilled, spilling his cum deep within Clary for the third time that night.

It was only moments after Jace began to release himself that Clary's walls clamped down on him, milking his member more than before, coming together.

Training had been beneficial for the both of them, as their pants died down quickly, allowing normal breathing to commence. Clary had moved herself off of Jace, lying beside him, entwining her legs with his. He pulled her right arm onto his chest, holding it in his larger hands.

They talked for a long time after, about Clary's birthday, about their first kiss, about everything simple and sweet they had experienced since being together. It was déjà-vu when they both stopped talking to look over at Clary's nightstand. The clock once again read midnight.

"What a birthday," she sighed, shivering slightly.

Jace pulled the blankets up and over their naked forms. "What a birthday indeed," he agreed. Then he pulled them back off, remembering the scratches on his skin. He made to get out of bed, but Clary had an iron grip on his upper arm.

"Going somewhere?"

"I was just going to get my stele," he explained. Clary shook her head at that.

"Not this time. You're going to heal like a mundane," she told him with a tone of authority. Jace gave her a thoughtful look, but agreed. It wasn't like he made her keep her bruises.

Whatever, he thought, I love her. He kissed Clary softly on her swollen lips. "Only because I love you, okay?"

"Okay," Clary agreed.

They both fell asleep minutes later, aware of the both amazing and scary future they had ahead of them.