Chapter 5

The penthouse smelled like cedar and brandy.

Jace stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows, his arms crossed, eyes locked on the skyline. Behind him, the door slid shut.

“You’re late,” Elias’s voice rang out—low, smooth, a command more than a complaint.

Jace turned slowly.

Elias stood by the mini bar in a slate-gray shirt, unbuttoned at the collar. His sleeves were rolled up, veins visible on his forearms. No tie. No smile. Just that unsettling calm that told Jace he was no longer in control of anything.

“I had things to do,” Jace said.

Elias arched a brow. “I bought your time.”

“You bought my body,” Jace corrected. “Not my excuses.”

The tension between them flared instantly.

Elias crossed the room in measured steps, a slow predator. Jace didn’t flinch—he let Elias close the distance, his heart already thudding in anticipation and defiance.

When Elias stopped in front of him, just inches away, he looked down at Jace like he already owned him.

“You’re not here to speak,” Elias said. “You’re here to obey.”

Jace’s breath caught—but he didn’t move. Didn’t push away. He wanted this. Needed it, even if he hated himself for it.

Elias set his glass down. “On your knees.”

The command hit like a slap.

Jace froze—but only for a second. Then he dropped slowly, knees hitting the marble floor without a sound. He didn’t speak. He didn’t argue.

He’d signed up for this.

His breath quickened as Elias stood, stepping forward, towering over him.

“Take it out,” Elias ordered.

Jace’s fingers moved to Elias’s belt. The leather came undone with a soft hiss. His hands were steady, but his heart thudded hard behind his ribs.

He unzipped him, pulled his cock free—already thick, already hard. Elias didn’t touch him. Just looked down with that infuriating, unreadable gaze.

“Look at me,” Elias said.

Jace raised his eyes. Their gazes locked—and he hated how his stomach twisted. Hated how his throat became moist. This wasn’t supposed to feel like anything.

He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around Elias's big throbbing cock, sucking it slow and deliberate.

Elias hissed, his fingers sliding into Jace’s hair, gripping tight.

“That’s it,” Elias murmured, guiding the rhythm. “Good boy.”

Jace’s jaw ached from how wide his mouth opened, but he didn’t stop. He hollowed his cheeks, let his tongue swirl, took him deeper with every pass. Elias was thick, heavy on his tongue, and he could feel the tension growing in every line of the man’s body.

Elias moaned—low, restrained—and tugged Jace’s head back suddenly, eyes dark with heat.

“Take off your clothes,” Elias ordered.

Jace hesitated, but then he saw the look in Elias’s eyes. Dark. Expectant.

He slowly lifted his shirt over his head. The air hit his skin, cool against the heat that had already started crawling down his spine.

“Everything.”

Jace undid his belt, kicked off his pants, and stood there, stripped bare in more ways than one. The vulnerability twisted something deep in his gut. This wasn’t just a transaction. It was exposure. Raw. Silent.

Elias walked around him, slow and deliberate.

“I told myself I was buying you for convenience,” Elias murmured as he circled. “You act like you hate me. But your body says otherwise.”

Jace tensed when Elias’s hand touched his waist—firm, claiming.

Elias stepped in, pressing against him from behind. Jace could feel the hardness, feel the control in the way Elias’s fingers dug into his hips.

“Do you like this?” Elias whispered against his ear. “Being mine?”

Jace swallowed hard. “You paid for a month, not a fantasy.”

“But this is mine now. Your mouth. Your body. Your time.”

Elias’s hand slid lower, cupping Jace roughly before turning him around in one swift motion. His mouth crashed against Jace’s, not asking—taking.

The kiss was brutal, full of possession. Jace kissed back just as fiercely, fingers in Elias’s shirt, dragging it off.

They stumbled backward toward the bedroom—Elias never releasing control, Jace never giving in, not fully.

When Elias shoved him onto the bed, Jace’s back arched at the sudden coolness of silk sheets. Elias stripped fast—shirt gone, belt undone. Every motion was controlled, practiced, like a man used to taking what he wanted.

He climbed over Jace, pinning his wrists above his head.

“Spread your legs,” he demanded.

Jace did.

Not because he was weak.

Because he chose this.

Because this was power too—offering yourself and knowing the storm you could survive.

Elias kissed down his throat, his chest, lower, tongue tracing fire across every nerve. Jace gasped when teeth grazed his hipbone, when fingers pressed deep enough to make him tremble.

It wasn’t slow.

It was rough.

Urgent.

But Elias never stopped watching him—eyes locked like he wanted to see every reaction, every moan, every tremor.

“Say it,” Elias said, voice tight. “Say you’re mine.”

Jace’s lip curled. “You want submission?”

“I want the truth.”

Jace’s breath shook. He closed his eyes, jaw clenching.

“I’m yours,” he whispered. “For now.”

Elias didn’t push for more.

He just moved.

He entered Jace slowly, stretching him open, filling him to the edge of pain and pleasure. Jace gasped—back arching, fingers gripping the sheets.

It was overwhelming. The stretch, the heat, the rhythm—slow at first, then deeper, harder, Elias’s grip bruising his hips.

Their bodies moved together in sync, a rhythm of hate and hunger. Jace moaned into Elias’s neck, nails dragging down his back.

Every thrust was a reminder.

You’re mine.

You asked for this.

You wanted this.

And Jace—gods, he hated how much he did.

The bed creaked under them. Breath turned ragged. Skin slick. The slap of bodies and the sting of lust filled the dark room.

Elias leaned down, lips against Jace’s ear.

“You were made for this,” he growled. “Made for me.”