The Mortal Instruments: City of Past Ghosts (Book 1)

Chapter 7: A Lover's Question

First and definitely foremost, I'd love to thank @kershawmkk for your lovely comments. I cried reading your comment so thank you very much for letting me know that there are people that truly appreciate my stories and effort.

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Chapter 7: A Lover's Question

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Isabelle felt Simon's cool arms wrap around her and his smooth, soft lips pressing into the crook of her neck. Though he wasnt vampire anymore, sometimes Simon's body temperature stayed on the cool side.

"What are you thinking about, Iz?" Simon said, his cool breath fanning her neck.

Honestly, she wasn't thinking about anything. Just blank, as usual.

"Nothing." Isabelle answered honestly, wincing at the lifelessness and eerie emptiness in her voice.

Simon sighed, guiding, her to the soft couch in their living room.

She leaned into him and sat on his lap as Simon sat on the couch. She wasn't worried that she was hurting Simon by sitting on his lap. He was a Shadowhunter. He was strong.

"Talk to me, Iz." Simon said, looking at her.

Isabelle smiled weakly, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Okay...what do you want to talk about?"

Simon chuckled. "Anything. Magnus's dress code, maybe?"

Isabelle swatted him lightly on the shoulder. "That's been discussed to many times and we've decided to keep it an eternal mystery."

"Agreed." Simon said, playing with a strand of Isabelle's dark hair.

"So...what should we do?" Isabelle said, sounding resigned and bored. She craned her head around to look at Simon.

Simon was silent for a moment before a knowing smile appeared on his face. "I know something we both can do and enjoy." Simon murmured as he buried his face in the crook of Isabelle's neck. He kissed the soft membrane of her neck lovingly, sending jolts of pleasure and joy through Isabelle in a way only Simon would be able to.

She wiggled around so she was now facing Simon. She straddled his waist, wrapping her long arms around his neck, not allowing escape. She played with his soft hair as he planted warm kiss after warm kiss after warm kiss on her neck. Her skin boiled where Simon had kissed her even though each kiss was gentle and sweet.

Simon placed his hands on her hips, not allowing her to escape. His kisses moved upwards to her jawline, to her cheek and finally stopping at the corner of her mouth.

He teased her, not moving to her full lips.

"We could play Scrabble," Simon suggested playfully though he said it in a serious tone.

Isabelle pulled back slightly to glare at him in the eye as she said "You'd never win anyways," before planting her lips on his.

His lips were soft, warm and delicious like a shot of water after hours of wandering in the Sahara desert.

The kissed each other passionately, Isabelle melting when she felt Simon's hand trail up north.

She felt Simon's hand trail up from her hip to her waist to her shoulder, lightly caressing her creamy skin. His hand snaked under her blouse, fiddling with the strap of her bra.

"I love you so much, Iz." Simon groaned, pulling back slightly to look at her. He gently brushed her dark hair out of her face. His eyes were hungry—hungry for her—with desire but restrained; but only barely.