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Chapter Text

Feyre.

The word appeared in her mind as she lay in her bed, restless and unable to find sleep. Rolling onto her side while closing her eyes and taking deep breaths, she attempted to lull herself unconscious. The air hummed like it was electrically charged. The buzzing wouldn’t allow her to sleep. Plus, she was apparently now hearing voices.

Feyre, come to me.

Utterly male and luxurious, the voice was a silk caress against her mental shields. Fantom claws scraped slowly along the back of her mind. Sensual shivers snaked down her spine. Leering into the darkness, she pondered if she may be going mad.

Come see.

The voice urged her out of bed. Huffing, she decided maybe a walk around Tamlin’s gardens might clear her head and allow her to finally get some rest. Or so she hoped. Shoving her feet into her boots, she tugged her hair between her fingers until a heavy braid hung down her back. She shoved her arms through the soft sleeves of her coat.

Lighting a candelabra, she lit her way down the silent hallway with the light of her flickering flame. Orange shadows danced across the stones, mimicking monstrous forms. She tried to ignore the gnashing teeth and haunting hollow eyes she saw within those shadows from her periphery.

She was truly losing it. Shaking her head in an attempt to clear the irrational thoughts, she headed down a back hallway she’d found during her snooping. Creaking open a side exit, Feyre emerged into the misted night air. A slight chill wedged its way into her, causing her to hug herself, wrapping her coat tighter around her torso.

Come to me, the voice purred into her mind again. An invisible string knotted behind her navel and yanked her forward into the night. Dew coated her boots as she crunched through the grass. She had no idea how she knew where to go, but she knew it absolutely. Getting there was as easy as knowing her own name.

She walked until she was faced with the gaping mouth of a cave. Inside was utter, swirling darkness. Holding her candelabra higher, she walked forward. Whatever was calling her had to be in this cave. Visibility was low inside the cavern. She couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of her. She walked deeper inside, unsettled by the complete absence of light around her. She got halfway to the back of the cave when she felt it.

A presence behind her. A large presence. The person was huge. She felt those same ghost claws run across the back of her neck and shuddered with a gasp. Before she could turn to see the figure, they leaned forward and blew out the small flame.

Plunged into the pitch black, she whimpered. She couldn’t even see the mouth of the cave anymore, almost like she had been surrounded by shadows. She felt two more bodies then, and clapped her hand over her mouth, desperately trying not to cry.

She was so, so foolish. These monsters had used their mind control to seduce her into the dark alone and she’d willingly and blindly allowed them to do. She prayed that whatever creatures lurked in the shadows wouldn’t hurt her.

“There you are,” a deep, lavish voice coaxed into the air in front of her face, so close she could feel the spearmint brush of his breath, smell the musky citrus scent of him. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“M-me?” Feyre asked, her voice trembling and giving her away immediately.

“She’s so fragile,” the voice to her left said.

“Breakable,” the one on the right agreed.

Fear was a centipede crawling up her spine and burrowing into her skin. The panic festered inside of her chest like an open wound. She could feel their eyes on her body, leering at her most vulnerable areas. They could see in the dark. Which meant…

Shit, they had to be fae. The advanced eyesight and mind control could be explained no other way. This meant without Tamlin here to protect her, she was subject to whatever nightmarish plans these men had for her.

“Shall we take our bride home?” The one to her left said. She could hear the amused smirk in his words.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Feyre said, gritting her teeth and trying to sound menacing. She failed. Miserably.

“Hush now,” the one in front of her cooed, his thumb rubbing across her bottom lip. She tried to jerk away, but he gripped her chin, holding her firm. She huffed, trying to reach and push his body away, but her hands found nothing as if the man was a shadow himself. It was so bizarre. She needed to run. And now, before they grabbed her and took her with them.

She closed her eyes before taking a deep breath and hitting the bend in the man’s elbow as hard as she could. His hand fell away much too easily, but there was no time to think about that now. She should just be thankful to be out of his hands.

She bolted blindly into the darkness, pumping her legs as hard as they would go in the direction she knew had to be the way out. She slammed face-first into the broad chest of one of the men, whining and gripping her nose. Tears leaked from her eyes and down her ruddy cheeks.

“Please… don’t do this,” she begged.

The chest in front of her face vibrated with laughter. She sobbed, squeezing her eyes shut. She was so afraid. These men were going to hurt her and she wasn’t going to be able to get away. She swallowed her panic as much as she possibly could.

“Think she’ll beg like that in bed?” the one on the right joked.

“Mmm, I bet you beg so pretty, don’t you, little human?” It was the left one, she thought, but now, she wasn’t so sure. The cave echoed, and it felt as though all three men had moved, but she couldn’t piece it together.

Feyre loosed another shoulder-shaking sob and fought the urge to sink to her knees in defeat. If she could just see, she could escape. But she knew she stood no chance against three massive fae males who could see when she was blinded by the night.

“Let’s not play with our food, Az,” one said. “I’d much rather just devour it.”

At once, three sets of hands landed on her arms and shoulders. Before she could even prepare herself, she was being stretched and thrown through space and time. Her stomach roiled, threatening to empty its contents into the air she whizzed through.

She landed harshly, the males allowing her to drop to her knees on the black marble floors. Her kneecaps made a cracking noise as they hit the unforgiving surface. She blinked wildly, the flood of bright light burning her eyes. Once she blinked all the tears away enough to see in front of her, she looked up to see three of the most beautiful men she’d ever laid eyes on towering over her.

Her cheeks flooded with heat under their leering gaze.

“Welcome home, wife,” the one in the middle grinned, his violet eyes dancing with amusement. “I’m Rhysand. This is Azriel and Cassian. You’ll be very acquainted with us all quite soon.” Huge, horned bats' wings sprouted from each of their backs. Illyrians. She’d heard tales of their brutality in her village.

Her stomach squeezed at his words. She didn’t know what she would do now. She didn’t even know where she was. How could a human possibly run away from three expertly-trained and winged warriors? The hopelessness of it all made her want to melt into a puddle on the floor. Her limbs felt weak and useless.

The most beautiful one, Azriel, walked forward and scooped an arm under her bent legs, the other behind her back, and lifted her against his chiseled chest. He smelled delicious. The scent of him sent heat to her core, but she quickly blinked the thought away. She did not think that. No. She refused to think such things.

Gritting her teeth, she reared her hand back and smacked her palm harshly across Azriel’s beautiful cheek, his head swiveling with her blow. She’d actually caught him off guard and landed a good hit. Perhaps there was hope for her after all.

Azriel turned his eyes back to hers with deadly slowness. He ran his tongue inside the side of his cheek, fighting his every instinct to react to her smack. His hazel eyes narrowed at her, an evil, challenging half-smirk covering his features.

“You’re gonna fucking pay for that one later, little one,” he threatened. “Hope you’ve learned just how torturous patience can be in the mortal lands.”

Cold shadows swirled up her legs. She screeched, swatting at them, but her hand went right through them as if they weren’t even there. They crawled around her wrists, all at once becoming solid and shackling her wrists together, should she think to do such a thing again.

She panicked, jerking at them. The more she wiggled and tried to pry the manacles off, the tighter they got on her wrists. She let out a defeated cry, allowing Azriel to do whatever he wanted. Her fighting was fruitless.

He carried her down the hallway, the walls covered in framed pictures of smiling friends hugging each other’s necks or chucking snowballs at one another. So at odds with the males she was with. And yet, there were their smiling faces, right alongside a bombshell blonde and a devastatingly beautiful woman with black hair and bottomless grey eyes.

Turning to the first door on the left, Azriel kicked the door open with the toe of his shoe. Inside was the most luxurious room she’d ever seen in her entire life. The bed was gigantic. It spanned most of the wall. It was fitted in cream silk sheets and tufted soft blue comforter, flush with layered pillows that covered the ornate headboard. A sheer white canopy draped over the top, lazing down to the floor with grace.

Her mouth opened slightly, taking in the room before her. Azriel gently sat her feet on the floor, and she walked forward. She ran her fingers over the impossibly soft comforter and bit back a moan at the sensation of it against her skin. Her bed at Tamlin’s manner had been okay- better than anything she’d known before. But this bed made Tamlin’s look like child’s play. It was big enough to easily sleep five people.

Feyre’s heart dropped at the thought. There were three males who’d come to retrieve her. They’d called her wife. All of them had. But… That didn’t make sense. Weren’t fae highly possessive and territorial?

“Indeed, Feyre darling,” the male with the glowing violet eyes said, eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made her heart squeeze a little. She swallowed. He could read her mind?

“Yes again,” he confirmed. Fucking awesome. He snorted.

“I don’t understand,” she said, voice higher pitched than she’d meant for it to be. Tears welled in her eyes again, blurring her vision slightly. She sniffed, using her sleeves to wipe her eyes.

“You see, Feyre. Cassian, Azriel, and I all have… singular tastes. Have you ever heard of Bonds?” He asked her, tucking his hands into the pockets of his immaculately pressed black pants.

She shook her head. He nodded, as if this were expected.

“Sometimes, among fae, there are what we call Bonds. Similar to mates, but different in a few ways. A Bond is tied to a Central Bond. The Central Bond will have several Bonds, but a Bond only has one Central Bond. You, Feyre, are a Central Bond. Cassian, Azriel, and I are your Bonds. Meaning we belong to you, and you belong to us. We’ve brought you home, where you’ll be safe and close to us,” Rhysand explained casually as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on her.

“But… Would you not get jealous of the other Bonds?” Feyre asked, voice meek.

“No, sweetheart,” Rhysand assured softly. “We’re a family. A Bond Group.”

Her head was pounding. It was too much. Way too much.

“To complete a Bonding, the Bond and Central Bond become intimate and solidify their connections to one another. Once Bonded, Bonds can share power, speak to one another telepathically, and feel when their Bonded is hurt.” Azriel chimed in, crossing his arms and leaning back into the mahogany dresser pressed against the wall behind him. “Intimate?” she squeaked. They grinned.

“We have to make you come, sweet thing,” Cassian purred.

Her cheeks set on fire. She could have melted into a puddle right then and there. What the hell was she doing? Why was she playing along with this as if she had any intentions of staying and seeing it through?

“The house is warded,” Rhysand warned, an edge to his tone. “No one but our Bond Group can enter, and you cannot leave unless a Bond is accompanying you.” She wanted to smack him even harder than she’d smacked Azriel. Or wrap her hands around his neck and squeeze.

He quirked up an eyebrow. She scowled at him.

“I’m sure you want to shower, Feyre,” Cassian said. “There are clothes for you in the closet and in the dresser. Everything that is ours is yours now.” She looked at him blankly.

She felt insane.

“Need help showering, Feyre?” Azriel purred. “Perhaps they don’t have those in the Mortal Lands. But don’t worry, I have no qualms about seeing your naked body writhing and lathered in suds underneath my touch.”

Her stomach heated, twisting in knots. Afraid he’d noticed, she growled at him, stomping into the bathroom and pulling the door shut, immediately snapping the lock into place. Once the door was secured, she took a deep breath.

She paced in circles, unsure of what to do. She absolutely hated the part of her that was enticed by the idea of three mouth-watering Illyrians worshipping her body, tasting and touching and gripping her skin.

She nearly gagged. What was wrong with her? She missed Tamlin, loved Tamlin. Surely he’d noticed she was gone by now, right? Would he have any clue where to look? Would he even care to look?

She cursed, deciding she wouldn’t be able to leave anytime soon, but perhaps if she positioned herself as docile and defeated, she could seize the right opportunity and get the hell out of there. She quickly banished the thought from her mind, terrified Rhysand would reach into her mind and hear it.

She stripped her sweaty clothes from her body, stepping into the black-tiled standing bathing room. The shower was massive. Inside were four benches, one for each wall, and two rain showerheads reaching from the ceiling. In the high window, leafy green plants dangled their beautiful vines. She had to admit. This was her dream shower.

She poured a strawberry-scented shampoo into her hands, admiring the pink iridescence of the soap before scrubbing it into her hair. She hummed in pleasure, massaging her scalp with her fingers as she closed her eyes and listened to the gentle rainfall of the shower.

Her soul nearly evaporated at the sound of the shower door opening. She squealed, desperately trying to cover her body with her hands. Azriel stepped into the shower, entirely naked. Her jaw dropped. He was immaculate. His tapered waist and muscular thighs and… she gulped at the sight of his cock.

There was no way he had ever fit inside of a female before. Even thinking about taking him made her pussy ache. He’d likely break her in half if he ever tried. Blood rushed to her head at the thought. Azriel caught her looking and smirked.

“We’ll make it fit, baby, don’t worry,” he said, his voice purely male and dominant. He stepped under the showerhead, water slicking his raven black hair to his forehead and dripping down the glorious shape of him. Gods, was she okay?

“I locked the door,” she snarled. He rolled his eyes. “I’m naked, could you not wait? This is violating-”

“Violating?” He said, eyes predatory and voice full of snark as he walked towards her. She whimpered, walking backward until the back of her knees hit the bench and nearly buckled. He walked to her, stopping close enough that she could feel the press of his hard dick against her abdomen. She gulped, resisting the sick urge to wrap her hands around him and see what beautiful noises she could draw out of him.

“You think I’m violating you, Feyre?” He said, stepping an inch closer. His breath was on her face, the clean and meticulous smell of him. He was so groomed, so polished, so perfect. Tamlin had never really cared much for such details.

“Yes,” she said.

His hand wrapped under her jaw, squeezing the sides of her throat. Her lips parted slightly and his eyes traced the seam of them.

“Get off me,” she commanded.

Scoffing, he released her. She held back the cry that almost came out of her at the loss of his touch. She needed to get a fucking grip. He stepped away, back to her, and showered quickly without another glance in her direction. She waited for him to towel off and leave the bathroom before resuming her shower.

When she finally came out, her fingers were shriveled and her skin was red from the hot water. She entered the closet and almost died all over again. It was as big as the bedroom, lined with rows and rows of the most immaculate garments she’d ever seen. The males shared one wall, leaving the other entirely for her. Rows and rows of shoes and gowns, fur coats, and expensive jewelry. She almost started drooling.

She didn’t want to admit it, hated admitting it, but this… this was hot. This, she would be taking full advantage of. Call her vain, but she was of the mind that fashion was art and art was to be revered. She’d probably never again wear clothes this fine.

She tried on different garments, posing in the wall-sized mirror and dancing around. She hyped herself up, pretending to be someone different in some other place. She felt the expensive fabrics against her skin and nearly purred like a cat.

Hanging everything back up where it belonged, she slipped into a pair of boxers and one of Cassian’s oversized t-shirts. She wasn’t sure why she did it. It just felt right, and she didn’t fight it. She tucked herself into the obscenely large memory foam mattress and was asleep in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

Chapter Text

Large hands gripped her thigh, a large male body pressing behind her. A palm spread across her belly, tugging her back into his body before returning to soothingly rubbing long strokes up and down her thigh. She hummed in her sleep, wiggling slightly to press back into him more.

In her dream, he hummed in approval. The hand stroked higher, cupping her ass cheek, squeezing and kneading at her skin. She pressed her ass back against him, throbbing at the feeling of his hard cock against her backside. He ground against her ass. She arched, throwing her head back over his shoulders.

Fingers began lightly tracing in circles around her nipples. But it wasn’t the same hands. No, these were coming from the front of her body. They pinched her nipples harshly and she gasped. A mouth closed around her nipples, over her shirt. She moaned in her sleep, desperate to be touched and fucked.

A leg slid between hers, thigh rubbing against the growing wetness between her thighs. She whimpered, rubbing herself against it, savoring the friction. Her head was fuzzy and she felt disoriented.

The mouth bit down slightly on her nipples, making her even wetter. She was soaking her boxer shorts, twisted in two males’ limbs.

“Such a needy girl,” a deep voice murmured against her neck, pressing another open-mouthed kiss there. Hands wandered under her shirt, splaying against the warm skin there, exploring. She sighed into their touch as they began to massage her breasts, rolling her nipples between their fingers.

Her shirt lifted slightly, a wet, hot mouth enclosing her nipple. She moaned, grinding her hips down on her Bond’s thigh. He bit down harshly on her nipple and she gasped. She blinked, jerking.

She yelped, jumping out of Rhysand and Cassian’s arms. They were both grinning at her. She yanked her shirt down and crossed her arms across her chest, covering her peaked nipples. Azriel was gone, though.

“Come, now, pet. We were just getting to the good part,” Rhysand fussed, patting the bed in between where he and Cassian still lay. She scowled.

“I was asleep,” she growled. I mean… she kind of knew. Okay, she definitely had known and was hoping she was wrong. It had just felt too good to stop them in the daze of her sleep.

Rhysand rolled his eyes. “You knew what was happening, you just weren’t ready to give the sensation up just yet.” Those mental claws drug down the front of her mind, as if explaining that was where he’d been the whole time. She opened her mouth to argue, but nothing came out.

Cassian chuckled.

Hands gripped her hips from behind and she startled. Azriel squeezed her hips tighter, pulling her ass back against him. Water dripped from his hair onto her shoulder and she realized he was fresh out of the shower. Hadn’t he just showered?

He turned his head, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the side of her neck.

“You’re disgusting,” she hissed, but didn’t necessarily lean away.

One hand left her hip to rub across her lower belly in feather-light touches. Her stomach twitched under his fingers, breath hitching. With each pass of his fingers, he dipped the tiniest bit lower.

“You’re delicious,” he groaned, licking a line up her neck to her jaw.

His pinkie dipped just below the hem of the boxers she was wearing, and she realized she’d been panting into his touch. She cursed herself internally for being so weak.

“Stop,” she breathed, making no move to push him away.

“No,” he said plainly, nipping her earlobe. She growled.

“I don’t want you,” she lied.

His fingers plunged beneath the waistband of her boxer shorts, swiping two fingers through her folds. She nearly choked. Her cheeks grew bright red at how slick his fingers felt against her. He let out a raw, feral groan, shoulders jerking slightly as he placed the two fingers on his tongue, tasting her.

She watched his tongue suckle at his fingers, lapping up her wetness and her pussy throbbed. She was thankful his hand wasn’t there to feel it. He looked at her with a wolfish grin.

“You don’t taste like you don’t want me,” he murmured.

“Don’t be selfish, Azriel. We have to share our toys,” Cassian chided. Azriel scooped her up, carrying her over to the bed and sitting her back between Cassian and Azriel. She crossed her arms, crossing her legs tightly.

“Do you not crave us as we crave you?” Rhysand asked.

“No, I don’t,” she lied again. In fact, she was quite embarrassed by how much she was craving all of them. It was like something in her chest knew them long before she did, wanted them long before she did. Was that the Bond Rhysand had been talking about?

What would it mean for her, if she was their Central Bond? Is this something she should want, despite its rough origins? Were these men truly destined for her?

“Why deny us all for pride?” Cassian asked, fingers trailing up and down her arm.

“I don’t want you,” she snarked.

“We can smell how wet you are, Feyre,” Rhysand said, rolling his eyes.

She jumped up, leaving to lock herself in the bathroom and away from her Bonds. She was so overwhelmed. Her body wanted them so badly, wanted them near her and inside her. She wanted to bathe in their scents, and feel every inch of their skin.

She hated herself for how her body was reacting. She’d never experienced anything like this in her whole life. She loved Tamlin, didn’t she? How did she love him if she could be feeling so conflicted about her Bonds?

She turned on the shower, stripped her clothes off, and entered the hot water. She felt like she was going to explode. Maybe this was just residual horniness from being away from Tamlin for so long.

She sat on the bench farthest from the door. She paused for a moment, ears straining to make sure no one was about to walk in. Deciding she was safe, She placed both of her feet on the bench, baring herself to the steamy air. She allowed her hand to drop between her thighs, gathering her wetness and using it to glide her fingers in circles around her clit.

She sighed at the relief, bucking her hands slightly against her own hand. She plunged two fingers inside of herself, imagining the beast between Azriel’s legs. How it would feel stretching her out and pounding into her relentlessly.

She envisioned Cassian’s mouth on her neck, imagining what that dirty tongue would feel like licking her cunt. Or Rhysand’s long slender fingers taking the place of her own and pumping in and out of her hole, the dripping wetness of her making obscene squelching noises.

She threw her head back, feeling the tightness in her core grow.

What are you thinking about, Feyre darling? Rhysand purred into her mind.

And just like that, it was gone. She imagined throwing a shoe harshly at the back of Rhysand’s head and could feel his amusement oozing from his side of their Bond.

She covered her face with her hands, giving an exasperated scream. Cassian walked through the bathroom door as if she’d never locked it at all. Feyre threw her hands in the air and let out a crazed laugh.

“What the actual fuck,” she said, exasperated.

“Seem wound a little tight there, little human. Something wrong?” Cassian grinned.

“I’m going to kill you all,” she grumbled.

“Aw, okay, grumpy ass. I’m sure you will,” Cassian laughed. “We can fix your little problem. All you have to do is ask.” He stripped off his clothes as well, stepping into the shower. She looked at him like she couldn’t believe his audacity.

His body was more massive than Azriel’s lean muscle. But his cock… He was thicker than Azriel. Huge, but not quite as long. She looked away quickly, her skin prickling with anger.

“Go fuck yourself,” she quipped.

“I mean if you insist,” he shrugged with a taunting smile. “My wish is your command.”

Cassian hummed as he showered, washing and conditioning his hair with much more attention to detail than she’d ever paid her own. Once he was done, he slathered his body in body wash, and she swore he was performing for her.

That was only further proven when he wrapped a firm hand around himself and began to pump. He leaned forward, placing a hand on the wall to hold himself up as he pleasured himself. She was frozen in place, lips parted, watching him move.

She was hung on every breathy moan, whimper, and groan that fell from his beautiful lips as he worked his cock with a tight grip. His eyes screwed shut as he fucked into his own hand, getting off on the fact that she was watching him so intently.

“Feyre,” he moaned.

Gods, his moans made her throb with desire, even more so when he said her name. She was almost ready to cave, almost desperate enough to beg him to fuck her when he roared, cum spurting in thick streams from his dick, washing down the drain as he panted.

She watched it wash down the drain, despising the part of her that was angry it didn’t go inside of her. She stood and roughly pushed the door open, water going everywhere as she grabbed a towel and dried off with haste, leaving Cassian alone in the bathroom.

Chapter Text

The next night, Feyre was staring at herself in the mirror with no small amount of smugness. She’d picked the smallest, skimpiest dress she could on purpose. Rhysand wanted to play dress up and show her off? Oh, she’d make it a show alright.

The white gossamer fabric was borderline sheer. On either side of her body, the dress split from her feet clean up to the top of her hips. The muscled soft skin there was on display, begging the eye to wonder just what else could be hidden under the cobb web fabric. Her pert nipples were faintly visible through the garment, peaked from the cool air and the power she felt admiring herself.

She couldn’t wait to see the looks on her Bonds’ faces. She blushed her cheeks and lengthened her eyelashes. Plumped and glossed her lips, teasing her hair to look tousled and intentionally messy. She took a deep breath, giving herself a thumbs up in the mirror before scurrying out of the room and into the hallway to meet up with her Illyrians.

Her Illyrians. Gods, was she claiming possession of them already? She needed to remember who she was. Wearing this dress was a phenomenal start. She creaked the door open, expecting dropped jaws and drooling stares.

“Finally,” Cassian whined, standing up from where he’d been leaning back against the walls. Rhysand grabbed her arm roughly, yanking her down the hall after them. Azriel didn’t even bother looking her way. Like he was too high above her to care.

“We’re late,” Rhys growled, dropping her arm to straighten the lapels of his black jacket, smoothing his hair into place, and dusting himself off before nodding to the guards to open the doors to the throne room. Courtiers halted their motions and conversations to direct their entire focus to where the four of them now stood on the threshold. Rhysand looked bored. What had him in such a foul mood?

Rhys offered her his arm, but she scoffed at him, rolling her eyes and walking ahead of them all into the room. Rhysand was moments behind her, gripping her arm roughly again as he drug her along with him toward the carved obsidian throne at the pinnacle of the room.

He sat down on the stone, spreading his legs wide to make room for her. He patted his thigh, beckoning for her to sit on his lap. She opened her mouth to protest, but he gripped her hips with force, digging his fingers in painfully, and yanked her back onto his lap. She squeaked, ass pressed against his warm thigh. She squeezed her legs together, already regretting her outfit choices.

With a wave of his hand and haughty roll of his eyes, Rhysand dismissed his Court to galavant amongst themselves. Feyre watched Azriel and Cassian wade into the crowd, friends calling out to them and females giggling as they brushed past.

“You get off on that?” Rhysand growled into her ear. “Do you get off on acting like a brat and embarrassing me in front of my Court? Is that any way to treat your High Lord, Feyre?” She almost cracked a smile until she saw just how serious he was. Oh.

Heat swirled low in her gut.

“I-I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Rhysand hummed, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.

“No you aren’t,” he said, voice flat and emotionless. “But it’s okay. Brats get punished, and I cannot wait to punish you.” His eyes sparkled with wickedness and a shiver whispered down her spine, spreading goosebumps across her skin.

His hands gripped her hips possessively, fingers grasping bare skin. He growled, tugging her back closer to him. She relaxed into his touch. He ran teasing strokes down the sides of her rib cage, a mere ghost of a touch. Her body was a livewire, reacting to every move he made.

“I should spread you open right here and show them all what a good girl you can be,” he purred, sinking his teeth into the delicate skin between her collarbone and neck. Her breath quivered under his touch. He released his grip, tongue lapping suggestively at her smooth skin.

Her core was molten. She bit her lip, trying to breathe deeply and not allow her pussy to clench in response to his teasing. She tried to distract herself by looking for Cassian and Azriel among the crowd.

Her eyes landed on where Cassian sat, small blonde fae lounging across his lap the way Feyre was Rhysand’s. His hand held her by the waist as she kissed and suckled at the side of his neck. He lifted his chalice of faerie wine, taking a deep swig. White hot anger filled her, causing her skin to buzz. She wanted to rip that girl off of his lap and remind him who he belonged to.

She seethed at the audacity of him to ignore how she’d dressed herself up for him and complained about being held waiting all so he could have another female pawing after him. No fucking way. Feyre wouldn’t have it. She was boiling with rage.

Her eyes landed on Azriel then, and if she’d thought she was angry before, she was livid now. The anger threatened to swallow her whole. She was seeing red, drawing breath angrily through her nose. Her face formed a scowl as she watched Azriel sprawled across the ornate golden chaise lounge, padded with blue and gold dusted fabric.

A red-haired female sat behind him, her legs on either side of his body as he leaned back into her. She raked her fingers through his onyx hair as he chatted with the forest fae female knelt between his legs. Feyre was going to fucking kill them both.

“Mmm, is our sweet girl jealous?” Rhysand grinned.

“I’m not fucking jealous,” Feyre spat. His grin widened.

“No, of course not,” he agreed.

Rhysand snapped his fingers dramatically, summoning a beautiful faerie to bring him a chalice of faerie wine and a plate of decadent faerie fruits. They looked so juicy and ripe that Feyre’s mouth watered.

The female had big, brown doe eyes and deep brown hair. Her tin was a deep, warm tone. She was exquisite. She draped on the arm of the throne, chattering to Rhysand flirtatiously. Feyre bit her tongue so hard she drew blood, looking away from him as he used that deep lover's voice with the female.

“Something wrong, Feyre darling?” Rhysand cooed. Feyre gritted her teeth and ignored him. He turned back to the faerie, reaching an arm around her to pull her down onto his other leg. Feyre started seeing spots in her vision. She was gritting her teeth so hard she feared she was at risk of breaking them.

She knew what they were doing. They were attempting to goad her into admitting she wanted them by invoking her Bond’s jealousy. She wouldn’t let them win. Couldn’t let them win. Letting them win meant she had lost. She loved Tamlin. She couldn’t be bothered with these bastard Illyrian bats. At least, that’s what she told herself.

Cassian and Azriel had still not looked her way one time, playing their part seamlessly. She clenched her fists in her lap, knuckles turning white. She felt as though she were going to explode. She hated this fucking game they were all playing.

Rhysand dismissed the other female with a surprising lack of intimacy. She seemed heavily confused and disappointed as she disappeared back into the crowd, tugging her short dress down from where it had ridden up in Rhysand’s lap.

“I’m sorry, have I been neglecting my sweet pet?” He taunted, teeth nibbling her ear lobe. She pushed him away with a huff. His amusement was tangible. He was toying with her, pressing all her buttons to see which one would make her break.

“Are you angry with me, Feyre?” He asked.

“I don’t think of you enough to be angry,” Feyre ground out through gritted teeth. It was ironic in and of itself but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t give in to him and his antics.

“I don’t even need to push my way inside your mind to know just how untrue that is,” he said with a sly smirk. Play with me, his voice whispered into the back of her mind. She would do no such thing. She was only biding her time until she went back home.

“I want nothing to do with you,” she hissed.

“No?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“I hate you,” she spat. He groaned, pressing his nose against her neck before allowing his tongue to caress the delicate skin.

“Say it again,” he whispered.

“I hate you,” she panted, turning her head to offer him more of her neck.

“Again,” he begged. He reached his hands around her ribs to cup her supple breasts. He kneaded them in his palms, using his fingers to tweak her nipples. Sharp shocks of pleasure ran straight to her pussy at his touch.

“I-I h-hate you, Rhys,” she gasped. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.”

His hands rubbed down the sides of her thighs and back up them again, lifting her outside leg over his own so she was straddling one of his thighs, still facing the Court audience. She tried not to panic about how much her core was pressing into him.

“Needed to feel the heat of that pretty pussy against me,” he sighed into her hair. She throbbed at his words, her slick sticking the thin panel of her dress against her and dampening his leg.

His fingers dropped inside her legs, gripping and massaging her inner thighs. She arched, pressing her cunt against the strong muscle of Rhysand’s thigh. His pressed pants offered her a delicious reprieve.

“Greedy girl rubbing her dripping cunt all over her High Lord’s leg in front of their entire Court,” Rhysand praised. One of his hands trailed higher, pushing underneath the thin panel of her dress.

Her breath stuttered as she felt his fingers tracing the lips of her pussy. He groaned deep from his throat, a sound she was certain he hadn’t intended to make, and ran two fingers up her slit to gather her wetness. His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head at the slick of her.

His fingers circled her clit with an achingly slow tempo. She ground herself into his hand as much as he would allow, watching her like she was a form of art. She whimpered under his touch and his entire body shivered.

“Fuck,” he hissed.

She could feel how painfully hard he was behind her. He was barely holding his cool. Feyre had to admit, she loved the feeling of having this much power over him.

His eyes darkened as he heard that line of thought.

“Make no mistake, Feyre. You do as I tell you to. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you need to be punished.” His voice was frighteningly serious. She paused her movements against him, eyes wide. She blinked. She’d been giving into him so easily. What was wrong with her?

“I-I’m sorry,” she whined.

“If you’re so sorry, go claim what’s yours so we can get on with our night,” Rhysand said, nodding to where Cassian and Azriel were still draped in female body parts and sensual grins. Her stomach roiled. She was going to drag the two of them out by their ears. She couldn’t believe she’d allowed Rhysand to distract her from this.

She stood, quickly panicking at the way her dress clung to her wetness. Rhysand helped her make sure she was covered, but she could feel the slick of herself between her legs when she walked. Everyone here would be able to smell it, and she wanted to die.

Don’t think I’d ever share you with them like that, pet. You’re mine, he growled into her mind. She felt him form a protective shield around her, guarding her scent from reaching the courtiers. She chewed her bottom lip, fighting the urge to thank him by heading quickly into the crowd. She stopped toe-to-toe with Cassian. He didn’t even look up at her from his conversation with the blonde fae woman.

“Goodbye,” she snarled, eyes laser-focused on the female’s face. The woman stumbled to find words, looking back and forth between Cassian with an open mouth. Cassian glared bullet holes into her, and the female, sensing the energy shift, quickly stood and stumbled away from them.

Feyre crossed her arms, raising both eyebrows at him expectantly.

“Can I fucking help you?” he snarked. Her anger flared.

“I’m not playing your stupid game, Cassian,” she sighed.

“What game, little Feyre?” His tone was condescending, eyes narrowed at her like she was nothing and no one. Little Feyre. It made her tense to just think about it.

“The one where you whore yourself in front of me to piss me off,” she hurled the words forcefully at him like knives, intending for them to break the skin.

He stood, stepping until there was physically no space left between them. She had to lean her head back to look at him. She gulped, suddenly losing her confidence. He ran a thumb along her bottom lip before pressing a finger inside her mouth. She wasn’t sure why, but she let him. He pressed down on her tongue, holding her jaw as he studied her.

“You will never speak to me like that again,” he said, voice calm and deadly. “You mistake this for a world where you are in charge. I suppose you need to be reminded of that fact, don’t you?”

She bit down as hard as she could on his thumb, but he didn’t even wince. If anything he gripped her tighter. She whimpered around his finger. His jaw muscles flickered.

“I’ve had it with your attitude,” he threatened. “Seems I need to teach you some fucking manners.” He bent, throwing her over his shoulder as if she were no more than a piece of paper, landing a loud, stinging smack to her most exposed ass cheek. She cried out, squirming to get out of his grip. He smacked her ass again, harder this time. She stilled, biting her bottom lip to hold back a whimper.

He stomped out the doors of the throne room and down the hall, turning the corner and kicking open the door to their shared room. He tossed her haphazardly on the bed. She flailed, pulling herself to a sitting position. Not even seconds later, Azriel and Rhysand walked through the door, their faces painted portraits of fury.

She regretted every decision of the whole night at the sight. Suddenly, she wanted to be good for them. She didn’t want their punishment, she wanted their praise. She wanted them worshipping her body and slathering her in doting attention. She was afraid of what they were going to do. It sent a thrill through her body. The anticipation, the electric hum in the air.

“Stand up and come to me, Feyre,” Azriel said, his voice and face void of any emotion. She swallowed, listening to him and standing in front of him. He looked her up and down, disappointment etched into his features.

“How I’d love to worship that body of yours, Feyre,” he sighed. “Come closer.” He beckoned her a step forward. He pulled out a silk tie, wrapping it tightly around her wrists until they were bound together in front of her.

He gripped her wrists, lifting them above her head and walking her backward. Her ass hit the wall as he pulled her hands up even higher, settling the tie binding her over a large hook bolted into the wall. She gasped, panic flooding her body at the idea of surrendering herself fully to these men.

“Hush, pet,” Rhysand commanded from behind Azriel. “This is nothing you haven’t earned.” She jerked roughly on the tie, but it didn’t budge.

Azriel pulled out another black slip of fabric, this time a blindfold. He pulled it gently over her eyes, taking away her vision. With her sight gone, all of her other senses heightened. Her skin became hyper-sensitive. Her ears picked up every rustle of fabric, every shift of weight. Her lips parted slightly as she continued to breathe.

“You insist you do not wish to be Bonded, refuse our touch, and behave defiantly,” Cassian began, his voice close to her face. She could feel his breath, feel the atmospheric shift of his nearness. “We would be so gentle with you, Bonded, if you could only admit to yourself that you want this too.”

The rustling of clothes signaled another male moving close to her pinned body, admiring her like a spectacle. A hand ghosted the side of her breast, rolling a finger over the fabric covering her nipple. She sucked in a breath, arching into the touch. But as quickly as it came, it was gone.

“You will learn respect,” Azriel snarled. “Or I will fuck it into you.”

Wetness pooled at her center at his filthy mouth.

“Wanted to wear this slutty ass little dress to tease us, didn’t you, pet?” Cassian marveled, tracing a single finger from her wrist and down her arm, roaming over the slope of her shoulders to descend, drawing circles around her hardened nipple. “I’ll bet you dreamed about how hard my cock would get seeing you like this. Or how much I’d be throbbing thinking of bending you over in front of the entire Court, claiming and filling you with my cum like a good little slut.”

She whined, arching towards him, fighting the urge to beg to be touched.

“I asked you a question, Feyre.”

She bit her bottom lip, ripping a hiss from one of the males’ lips. The fingers circling her nipple pinched down, hard. She yelped and jerked away.

“Questions require answers, Feyre darling,” Rhysand preened.

“Y-yes,” she whined, tears rolling down her cheeks at her admission. She gasped as one of the males slid their tongue along her cheek, lapping up the salty taste of her tears with a pleased hum.

“That’s a good girl, Feyre,” Azriel praised. She delighted in his praise and his attention. Fingers slid underneath the neckline of her thin fabricated gown, gripping. She heard a ripping sound and felt a rush of cool air against her skin as Azriel cut her dress off, leaving her entirely bared and naked to them. She hated the excitement it gave her. She should be horrified right now.

Cool metal pressed against her throat and her mouth went dry. She tensed under its touch, understanding how her movements could cause her to be cut by the blade. Azriel drug the dull side of truth-teller down her sternum at a sickeningly slow pace. She was a whimpering mess beneath his blade. Her stomach twitched as he pulled the dagger across the skin of her lower belly. He was so close to where she really wanted him, but the blade kept her from being able to take it for herself.

The dagger twisted with a minuscule flick of his wrist, nicking her the smallest bit just underneath her navel. Her skin stung slightly and she could feel a small trail of blood beginning to drip from her belly button downwards.

Azriel watched the blood drip until it was seconds from hitting the slit of her cunt, pressing the flat of his tongue there, dragging upwards to suckle at the sight, avoiding the entire area she wanted him to taste. She knew that if the blindfold weren’t in the way, she would see the stain of her blood on his lips, and it did sickening things to her body and mind.

Another mouth tasted her throat, suckling and moaning against her skin. A third mouth entrapped her nipple within its wet heat. The male’s tongue played with her nipple, spilling feral keening screeches from Feyre’s mouth. She was going to lose her mind.

Azriel’s mouth began to move to the side to kiss and worship her hips. He pressed his lips to her with reverence, claiming her as his own personal alter. She was going to die by the coaxing hands of these beautiful males. She couldn’t take much more of this.

“P-please,” she whispered, her voice sulky.

All three mouths lifted from her skin and she cried out, feeling their heavy gazes on her, but being unable to see them.

“Please, what, Feyre?” So it had been Rhysand at her neck. She turned to him, but he moved back away from her.

“Please touch me,” she begged.

“Oh?” Azriel teased, voice oozing charisma. “Does our sweet girl want to be defiled? Do you want to be fucked and filled by your Bonds? Praised and worshipped with our tongues, mouths, and cocks?”

She nodded with a sob.

“Please,” she begged again.

He rubbed her cheek soothingly and she nuzzled into his touch.

“Too bad you couldn’t behave, huh?” Azriel said with a fake pout. She jerked her head out of his hand and gritted her teeth. She tried to squeeze her legs together, but Cassian’s firm hands pried her thighs apart, baring her to all of them.

Cassian dropped to a knee in front of her, lifting her hips and throwing a leg over each shoulder as she hovered in the air, supported by her bound wrists. He lifted her enough so it didn’t disrupt her circulation and allowed his eyes to fall on the soaking wet mess growing between her thighs.

“Seems like you’ve made quite the mess, pet,” Rhys scolded. “Cassian, why don’t you clean her up?” Her breath hitched in her throat. Cassian gave no heads-up before he lavished her with his tongue. He tasted, explored, and ravished her. Her breaths were loud and uneven, her legs twitching wildly. Her toes curled, thighs gripping the sides of his face. His warm, salacious mouth slurped at her entrance, determined to obey Rhysand’s instructions.

Once he found his work to be satisfactory, he pulled back with a pleased hum and dropped her hips, letting her feet land back on the floor. She nearly collapsed with the need to cry. She’d been so close to building up to her climax, and he’d just stopped. Was this her punishment? To be humiliated and deprived?

The thought was interrupted by the application of a mouth on each of her nipples and one landing against her own lips. She groaned into the Illyrian’s mouth, lapping at their tongue and going weak at the glide of his soft lips against hers. It was a passionate, messy kiss. The mouths on her breasts had her writhing and weeping.

“Pl-eaaase,” she whined into the male’s mouth. He growled, hand roughly gripping the back of her neck and knitting in her hair. He used his hold on her to press her mouth harder against his. She wished more than anything to have hands to touch him. Hands to run through his hair and down his chest to stroke his cock…

“You get off on this, don’t you, my sweet Feyre?” She was so immersed she couldn’t even make out the voice. “You like not even knowing who is touching you where. Being such a good girl, submitting and taking your punishment so well for me.”

The idea of it all was incredibly erotic. Every touch felt a million times more intense than anything she’d ever experienced. Long and slender fingers slid down her center, gliding through her slick and gently pushing inside of her. She mewled like a kitten, grinding to push his fingers deeper inside her hole. She needed to feel him deeper, harder. She wanted to know what he felt like rammed against her cervix.

“Feel so good clenching around my fingers, pretty girl,” one of them praised. She felt lightheaded, swaying slightly.

“Please, please, please,” she babbled. Her voice was so raw and desperate, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. The fingers inside of her kept the same unhurried pace, paying no mind to her bleating cries. “Need more, need you deeper.”

“Only good girls get cock, Feyre,” Azriel reprimanded.

“I’ll be good, please. I’ll be so, so good. I need you,” she moaned, jerking harshly against the ties around her wrists. They still wouldn’t budge.

“Yes, I’m sure you will be good next time,” he agreed, rejecting her pleas simultaneously.

“I need it now,” she sobbed.

“You should have thought about that before you acted like a brat,” Cassian scolded. “How can we enforce our rules if you don’t receive your full punishment?” The fingers pulled out of her and she began to get really fucking cranky.

“Are you going to be a good little pet for us, Feyre?”

“Yes, yes, I swear,” she pleaded, biting roughly on her bottom lip.

“Very good,” Rhysand praised. He gently lifted her arms up and off of the hook. Her arms ached with how she’d pulled and hung on them for so long. Rhysand used his fingers to gently massage them, relieving some of the soreness. He then reached between them to softly pull at the loose edge and unknotted her wrists, allowing them to fall free.

She groaned in relief, reaching up to knot them in Rhysand’s hair, and pulling his mouth down to hers. He stopped less than an inch away from her mouth, refusing to let her yank him lower. Her brows knotted and tears welled in her eyes. She felt so rejected by these men who claimed to want her so badly. She felt humiliated.

Still breathing the same air as Rhysand, he looked at her with overwhelming adoration, as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered to him. One corner of his mouth turned upward in a genuine, shy smile. Feyre’s heart gave a faint squeeze.

“I can be a forgiving High Lord,” Rhysand said, pausing like he was deeply in thought, playing whatever little game he’d conjured up.

“Please,” Feyre whispered against his lips.

“You may come,” she sagged with relief, “but… your hands are the only ones who can touch you. I want to watch you splayed out on our bed, fucking yourself with your fingers and causing your own pleasure.”

Feyre wanted their hands, but she was in no position to argue. She was grateful to even have been offered this small chance. She allowed Rhysand to pull her, still blindfolded, and assist her in crawling on the bed and situating herself comfortably back against the pillows.

“I’m going to take off your blindfold, okay, Feyre?” Azriel asked gently. She nodded. His hands found her face slowly so as not to startle her, and pulled the blindfold off of her eyes. Her eyes grew ten sizes as she realized all three of them were completely naked. Completely naked and completely perfect. Hers. Entirely hers.

She lifted her knees, spreading her pussy wide for them to see. The idea of them watching her was dirty, enticing, and erotic. It spread goosebumps across her skin again. A feeling she got quite often around her Bonds, she realized.

Her fingers found her wetness, spreading it up to her clit before beginning to rub small and quick circles around the bud of it. She threw her head back with a growl, undulating her hips against her hand.

Male moans snapped her eyes back up and open, nearly coming at the sight of all three of them stroking their powerful cocks. Their eyebrows turned upwards in pleasure. The sight of her was so hot to them that this was their reaction, which only fueled her arousal more. The noises coming from where she’d begun thrusting her fingers as deep as she could into her pussy were obscene.

“They don’t feel as good as yours,” she sighed, hooded eyes cast on Rhysand. He sighed a throaty growl, gritting his teeth as he squeezed himself with every thrust of his palm.

“Yeah?” He encouraged, panting through his pleasure.

“Or Cassian’s tongue,” she mewled.

They all cursed, nearing the heights of their climaxes, spurred on by the filth of it all.

“Such a good girl, playing with her pussy while her Bonds watch, jerking their cocks to the sight of her splayed open,” Azriel snarled.

Her legs tightened, muscles tensing with her oncoming release. The males’ moans grew louder and more untamed, beasts roaring with ecstasy. Within seconds of one another, they all came. Feyre’s eyes rolled back in her head as all three Illyrian males’ cocks spurted cum all over her exposed cunt, coating her in their arousal.

They all collapsed, sweat sticking their hair to their foreheads.

“Fucking hell, Feyre,” Rhys panted with a crazed laugh.

“That was so hot,” she murmured, almost under her breath.

Rhysand leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers softly.

“Did so good for us, sweetheart,” Rhys praised, gathering her up in his arms. “Now let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

She hummed her agreeance, snuggling her head against his neck sleepily.

Rhysand gently set her on her feet. He scrubbed her scalp with his nails, nearly as pleasurable as watching him come. The suds bubbled across his knuckles as he massaged her head lovingly. Cassian changed the sheets and made the bed ready for them all while Azriel grabbed a few water bottles. Then, they joined the shower as well, all doting on Feyre in such an intimate and yet nonsexual way.

“If that was as good as it was, I can’t even fucking imagine what it’ll feel like when we’re bonded,” Azriel said with an incredulous laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, his wet hair dripping on her cheek. The smell of him was so spicy and intoxicating. Entirely male and entirely Azriel. She wanted to drown in him.

The four of them brushed their teeth side by side, making silly faces at each other in the mirror and laughing until toothpaste dripped down their chins. This was such a stark contrast to the side of them she’d seen earlier, and she wondered how both could be true at the same time. She couldn’t deny the way she felt when she was around them.

When she left the bathroom this time, she pulled on a pair of Rhysand’s boxers and one of Azriel’s hoodies and climbed into bed next to Cassian, who was already snoring loudly.

Chapter Text

“Feyre darling,” Rhysand coaxed softly, rubbing Feyre’s back where she slept, lost to the world in her dreams. He smiled at her, pushing a loose strand of her hair behind her ears. He sat up and pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek.

Humming, she stretched and slowly opened her eyes, blinking at the brightness of the early morning sunshine streaming through the windows. She gave Rhysand a lazy smile as he watched her arch off the bed in a deep stretch. The kind that feels borderline orgasmic.

“Good morning,” she yawned. She rubbed her eyes roughly, trying to scrub the sleep from them. In front of her, Rhysand was shirtless, the sheet low enough on his hips to reveal the V that tapered from his waist down and the trail of hair that led to the intimate parts of him she’d seen the night before. His dark tattoos swirled across his broad chest and arms, making him look much more terrifying than he did when he played High Lord.

“Is that so?” Rhys mused, eyes alight with intrigue.

She rolled her eyes with a groan, still annoyed with the fact that he could just step into her mind anytime he chose to. He placed a palm on her lower back, dragging her closer to him until her chest pressed against the soft warm skin of his own.

That was the precise moment her eyes blew wide, very quickly remembering how she’d fallen asleep entirely naked in a bed with three Illyrian males. Cauldron boil her alive. She fought to stave off the panic that threatened to flood her.

She sat up, clutching the sheets against her chest, hiding her naked body from Rhysand. He just kept grinning at her like he’d fully anticipated her having this reaction. She chewed the inside of her cheeks.

“Don’t go all shy on me now, Feyre,” Rhysand gave a low, lover’s laugh, reaching to tug at the sheet she held against herself. “Not when you were begging for my cock hours ago.” Her face turned bright red, exactly as he’d intended it to. She scowled at him.

“You forced me to participate,” she growled.

He chuckled.

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself, sweetheart.”

She searched the room, eyes knitting together. Rhysand anticipated her question before it left her mouth. “Cassian had to go up to Illyria for the day, and Azriel is also working.”

“So, you’re the lazy one,” she teased.

“Just soaking up the moment to have you all to myself,” he smiled.

“What will I do while you work?”

“Wait for me to be done,” he said. She glared at him.

“I’m just supposed to stare at you all day?” She chastised him, unable to believe he thought her some toy to put back on a shelf until he was ready to play with her again. She felt a pang of guilt in her stomach and briefly wondered again why Tamlin hadn’t come to claim her. Surely, he’d pieced together where she was by now.

“What a great idea, my love,” Rhysand’s smile turned sinister, a wicked glimmer in his starry eyes. She hated the excitement that fluttered in her gut. “Get dressed, you now have a very busy day ahead of you.”

She groaned, rolling to shove her face down into the pillows. Rhysand landed a sharp smack to her ass cheek, and she squealed, wiggling to get away from him. He made her feel so many things she’d never felt before. He was exciting in a way Tamlin never had been.

“I’m happy to have your approval, Feyre, but I believe I gave you an order,” he said, voice deep and suddenly serious. He raised one eyebrow at her.

Her stomach twisted under the pressure of his gaze.

“You can’t just boss me around,” she griped.

“I very much can. Perhaps you enjoyed my punishment a little too much, didn’t you, my sweet girl? I’ll have to remember to be less forgiving next time.” Rhysand said, his smug smirk anything but friendly. It dared her to defy him, begging her to step out of line so he could take his sweet time making sure she regretted it.

She gulped.

“I’m-”

“Feyre, don’t test me. Be a good girl and do as I’ve told you,” he said firmly, interrupting her argument. She growled under her breath, angrily slamming the sheets off of her body and stomping to the closet to get clothes.

Rhysand lazily lounged in bed still, hands behind his head as he watched her dress with an utter lack of shyness. He watched the way she moved, the way her hair fell, the faces she made. His eyes hid nothing about what he was thinking about.

She was brushing her teeth a little too forcefully when he walked into the bathroom, fully dressed and immaculately groomed in a way that pissed her off even more. He leaned in the doorway, catching her eyes in the mirror as toothpaste dripped slightly from the corners of her mouth.

He checked his watch with a haughty discontent. Oh, she was going to end up in lots of trouble today if she wasn’t careful. She felt so riled up, so unsatisfied, and here he was looking so goddamn smug.

“Have somewhere better to be?” She asked, raising her eyebrows at him in the mirror.

“Would you like to rethink that tone?”

How was he not as frustrated by this as she was? She felt like she was going to explode from the strength it took to hold back from him. She ached for him, ached for all of them, but couldn’t allow herself to cave, to be that weak. These men didn’t want her, they just wanted control. It had nothing to do with Feyre herself. Hells, he’d probably gone to a pleasure house after discovering she wasn’t going to give in so easily.

He snarled from behind her. She turned to see him, but he was already on her, leaning to place his hands on the counter behind her as he pressed her against the cabinets so rapidly she felt dizzy. His face was an inch from hers, pupils blown wide with his rage.

“If you ever suggest something like that again, I’ll make sure you can’t sit for a week. Test me Feyre, I dare you.” His nostrils flared as he waited for her to argue or fight back. He looked so enraged that it threw her off her game. What had made him so angry?

“You are everything to us,” he growled. “You are the one who doesn’t want us. You are making it to seem like a prison, not us. You keep pushing us away and now you’re angry I’m not giving you the attention you want. So don’t you ever suggest I am the one sullying this.” She blinked, unable to speak. He stood back up, straightening his jacket before continuing to ready himself for his day.

He stood beside her, brushing and flossing his own teeth without even looking at her. She was quiet, stunned almost. He’d been incredibly defensive when she’d suggested he didn’t care about her. She didn’t know how to process it all, how to feel.

He led her throughout the townhouse and into his luxuriously designed office space. She walked in, taking in the small details that revealed more about who Rhysand was. Perhaps she really had written him off too quickly. Sure, he’d gone about it in a horrible way, but he’d yet to not provide her with anything she needed. Well, except his-

“Feyre, come,” Rhysand commanded. He sat down in his leather chair, sitting behind his desk. She refused to allow her mind to stray to the dirty, filthy places it wanted to at the sight. She walked to his side as he’d asked.

“I want you to remove all of your clothes, apart from your underwear,” he said offhandedly as if he’d just asked if she watched the news. She looked at him unmoving until he raised both eyebrows, daring her to challenge him again.

“You are fucking insane,” she scoffed.

“Feyre,” he warned.

“Can I ask why?” Her voice was small, hesitant.

“No, but since you already have,” he said, “you are going to kneel by my feet and wait patiently and silently until I’m finished.” She didn’t understand. Not at all. Why would he want such a thing? It felt so humiliating.

“Why?”

“Did you think you could just run that pretty little mouth of yours without consequence?” She scoffed at his serious tone. “This is your last warning before I take you over my knee, Feyre. Strip and kneel.”

For whatever insane reason, she obeyed. The part of her that had to swallow her pride was angry at herself for it, but she didn’t want to make him any angrier than he already was. Plus, she knew well enough by now that if she was good for him, he would reward her. She’d much rather have his rewards and approval than his punishments.

Her nipples pebbled under the cold air as she pulled her shirt and bra over her head. Rhysand shuffled papers on his desk, ignoring her entirely. She shrugged her pants off, stepping out of them and folding them neatly in a pile with her other clothes on the small couch in his office.

He lifted his eyes, turning his chair. His eyes didn’t even drift to her naked body in front of him. He patted his lap, motioning her over. She obeyed, sitting back in his lap. Rhysand snapped his fingers, summoning a small rubber band. He brushed her hair back over her shoulders, his lithe fingers intertwining the locks and pulling her hair into a braid down her spine, fastening it with the rubber band. He pressed a loving kiss to her shoulder blade before his hands found her waist, lifting her up and off of him.

She lowered herself to the floor, grateful for the plush rug that shielded her knees from the unforgiving floor. She sat as straight as she could, her palms face down on her thighs as she knelt at his side. He acted like she wasn’t even there for all intents and purposes.

The first thirty minutes were easy. By an hour, she was tired of sitting in this position. By an hour and thirty, she was ready to kill him. She glared daggers at him, but he never noticed. If he did, he most certainly didn’t let her know. At the two hour mark, she just felt needy.

She shifted herself, pressing her heel against her core in an attempt to relieve any of the pressure. This, he noticed. So perhaps he’d been paying more attention than she’d expected. He looked down at her, and she stilled. Finding her once again obeying his orders, he returned to his work.

“Rhys,” she whined. He didn’t look at her, just kept scribbling on the stack of papers he’d been sorting for the last two hours. From what small glances she’d been able to see, it looked like reports of some kind.

“I don’t remember asking you to speak, Feyre darling,” he brushed her off. “I’ll take care of you once I’m finished. Not long now.”

She chewed her bottom lip, hating just how much she really wanted him. She wanted his attention, yearned for it. She wanted to crawl in his lap and make him forget whatever he had his nose so stuck in. Perhaps she’d just knock it all off his desk and splay herself open in front of him and find out if his tongue would feel as good as Cassian’s had.

He shifted forward in his seat slightly as he continued to work. She pictured herself crawling to him, sucking his cock under his desk. She imagined the noises he’d make, how if she did well enough, he’d lose himself in her and roughly buck his hips and shove himself deeper into her throat, claiming her.

Rhysand growled under his breath but still didn’t look at her. A corner of her mouth quirked up as she realized her thoughts had been turning him on. She let her imagination run wild, then. If he wanted to tease her, she’d have to one-up him.

She sat up straighter, pushing her tits out further.

She imagined him pushing her shoulders until she was bent over his desk, ready and wanting. She imagined him on his knees, tasting her just before he’d press into her deeply, ruining every other man for her forever. Would he be rough or gentle?

“Feyre,” he warned.

She wondered what his kinks were, what deep and dark fantasies he was harboring in that beautiful head. She wanted to drag them all out of him, learning everything and making him as desperate for her as she was for him. She hated admitting it to herself, but she was.

“Yes, High Lord?”

He did a double take, turning his chair to look down at her. She preened under his stare. Oh. Oh. She understood now. When she was good, he looked at her like this, and he would show her how much he wanted her.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he said, beckoning her over. He scooted his chair backward, allowing her to stand in front of him, between his legs. His hands caressed her hips, wandering and exploring. She relished his touch, feeling like a livewire after all of that waiting.

His hands gripped her waist, sitting her up on his desk, just in her underwear. Just as she’d imagined. Her heart was racing. His hands smoothed down her calves, pulling her legs into his lap. He kissed her knees on either side.

“Sat so pretty for me,” he murmured against her skin, “such a good girl for me, aren’t you, baby?”

Then he slowly parted her thighs, spreading her open and exposing her to him. She caught on fire when she remembered how wet she was, how she was probably ruining his desk right now. He gave a low groan as he took in the wetness pooling in her panties for him.

“This all for me, sweet girl?” He asked.

“Yes, Rhys,” she cooed.

“Gonna be the death of me,” he said under his breath.

He looked up at her from under his lashes, slowly kissing his way to the tops of her thighs before switching to the other side. Her lips parted, watching him touch her in a haze.

He watched her every face and reaction as he pulled his mouth back and took one finger, tracing up and down her slit, still covered by the soaked fabric of her underwear. She gasped, back arching under even his slightest touch. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss over her core, sucking softly at the fabric.

His fingers found the tops of her underwear, pushing his fingers underneath.

“Lift your hips for me, Feyre darling,” he purred. She happily cooperated and he tugged them off her legs, tucking them into his pocket. She opened her mouth to protest but was cut off by him obscenely splaying her open.

She gasped as he wasted no time, running the flat of his tongue up the center of her pussy before diving in. He sucked at her clit harshly, pulling screeches of pleasure from her mouth. She’d never felt anything like it in her entire life. His mouth was an opiate in her bloodstream, a drug muddling her system.

“Gods, Rhys,” she panted. He hummed against her.

He groaned into her in pleasure, mouth vibrating against her pussy. She panted, knotting her fingers in his hair to push his face harder against her. To her surprise, he didn’t reprimand her for it. She’d never been so thankful to have use of her hands.

“Taste fucking divine,” he moaned.

She writhed under his mouth, desperate for more of him. He must have been reading her thoughts, because moments later two of his long fingers trailed through her folds, gently pushing inside of her. She gasped, grabbing desperately at his shoulders.

“Clenching my fingers so fucking tight,” he breathed.

“Feels so good,” Feyre cried.

“Can’t wait to feel you squeezing my cock,” he growled.

“Please,” she begged, but he ignored her and sucked at her clit harder. She was going to come. She pressed herself against his face, grinding her cunt against his lapping tongue. It was pure bliss to be worshipped by him in this way. It was better than she could have ever imagined.

“W-wait-” she stuttered. He didn’t stop, dragging delirious moans out of her with every swipe of his tongue against her clit. She felt her muscles tightening in her thighs. “Will this m-make us b-bonded? Shit, Rhys, your tongue.”

He laughed against her, the vibrations throwing her over the edge and into the spiraling abyss of her orgasm, the wet suckling noises of Rhysand against her cunt prolonging her pleasure until her legs squeezed his head with a loud cry, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. He still hadn’t stopped his brutal pace.

She squirmed, the overstimulation too much. Her senses were going wild, legs jerking erratically. She was far beyond control of the gasping, whimpering blabber that poured out of her. He sent her barreling towards her second release, hardly able to believe he’d done it so quickly.

Her fingers pulled and ripped at his hair, saying his name over and over like a prayer. She decided she didn’t even care if it meant they were now bonded if this is what it would feel like with him. Nothing had ever felt like Rhysand’s mouth.

When she came down a second time, he pulled back to grin up at her, dark hair hanging messily in his eyes from where she’d gripped it to fuck his face. His chin glistened with her wetness. He was so fucking beautiful that it threatened to consume her.

“A-are we bonded now?”

“That good, huh?” His grin was so irritatingly charming that she wanted to crawl into his lap and lick the taste of herself from his mouth. Gods, he was going to drive her to insanity. “No, sweet girl. You’d have to come on my cock for that.”

She bit her lip, still laid open on his desk with his mouth inches from her pussy. She could feel his breath against her. She nearly whimpered at the feel of it that she almost begged him to fuck her again.

“Is that what you want? To come on my cock?”

She nodded.

“Good girls use their words, Feyre,” he goaded her.

“Yes, High Lord,” she said gently.

His eyes darkened, and she bit her lip again with a coy look on her face. She found it fascinating that the words sent such a thrill through him. She loved making him respond to her in that way. It felt good to see him want her the way she wanted him.

He leaned forward, licking at her again, but this time slowly and gently, as if he were exploring her in hopes of committing every inch of her to memory. She writhed against him, but once he’d lapped up her arousal, he leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. She cried out at his absence.

“A-are you not going to?” She felt so vulnerable. She pressed her thighs together, hopping down from his desk to stand in front of him.

“Am I not going to what, Feyre darling?”

She groaned. Of course he was going to make her say it.

“Are you not going to fuck me?”

“Oh yes,” he said, same sly grin still plastered on his face. Gods, he was so smug. She wanted to kiss that look right off his face. “Many times, in many places while you scream my name.”

Her stomach filled with butterflies at the thought.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked him.

“You have to earn my cock, Feyre,” he corrected, rubbing the side of her thigh affectionately. She nearly melted into a puddle on the floor.

“I want to,” she said.

“Oh, I know you do, sweet girl. I could taste just how much you wanted me. Absolutely filthy, aren’t you? Just let your High Lord splay you open on his desk and eat that pretty pussy.” His words were filthy but they sent such a buzzing thrill through her. She would never get enough of him.

“Since you’ve been so good, you may use your afternoon however you’d like. My library is open to you, as is anything else of mine. Be ready to go out this evening. I’m taking you with me to meet some friends for a few drinks.” She nodded, happy he wanted her to tag along with him.

“Will Cassian and Azriel be there?”

“Do you want them to be?”

She pondered the question, but she already knew the answer. She missed them. It felt like something was missing, like pieces of her heart were elsewhere. She knew Rhys could hear that in her mind and make of it whatever he wanted, but she was tired of hiding from the truth. She’d been here days and Tamlin hadn’t even tried. Plus, the more time she spent with these males, the more she realized how little she’d truly wanted Tamlin. He had been comfortable, and comfortable was nothing compared to passion.

“Yes, I do,” she answered honestly.

“I’ll pass along the invitation,” he smiled softly.

She nodded, satisfied. She turned and began to dress before realizing her drenched panties were still shoved in Rhysand’s pocket. Fuck.

“Um,” she began.

“Yes, love?” Rhysand asked, returning to the stack of papers on his desk.

“My underwear?”

He furrowed his brows. “What about them?”

“They’re still in your pocket,” she quipped.

“I’m aware.”

Her gut stirred. She didn’t know what to say to that.

“See you tonight, Feyre darling,” he said, dismissing her. She chuckled to herself, clothing and heading out to find that library Rhysand had mentioned.

Chapter Text

The music thrummed in her ears, overwhelming her senses and muddling reality. Rita’s was packed tonight. Fae of all kinds ground their bodies to the beat, dripping in sweat and glitter. The disco ball in the middle of the dance floor reflected specs of revolving light that threatened to make Feyre dizzy. Or perhaps it was all the faerie wine. She was at the bottom of her third glass by now.

When Rhysand had said he was taking her out for a few drinks with friends, this most certainly wasn’t what she had in mind. She sat tucked in the back corner booth with him, the area reserved for the High Lord and his friends and only slightly visible to the rest of the room. Rhysand’s friends had yet to arrive. If she wasn’t careful, she was bound to be slurring before they even showed up. What a wonderful way to meet your friend’s Bond.

“Rhys!!” A blonde woman screeches, careening towards the booth with obvious familiarity. Feyre stiffened. Rhys flicked her an amused look as if he’d felt the rush of jealousy, just hearing his name on another female’s tongue.

She was followed by a short woman with shoulder-length black hair. She eyed the crowd with distaste, crossing her arms as she followed the blonde to Rhysand’s booth. The blonde beamed brightly, wrapping Rhys in a bear hug before immediately turning her attention to Feyre.

“Hi, Feyre! I’m Morrigan,” she grinned, obviously a few shots in already. Feyre smiled back shyly with a small wave, unsure of how she should be behaving right now. “And this is Amren,” Rhysand said, rolling his eyes at her lack of introduction. She looked Feyre up and down like she was her next meal. And not in a sexy way. Feyre shivered at the molten silver shifting inside of her haunting eyes.

“Sick dress, Feyre,” Morrigan gasped at the black skin-tight cocktail dress with a swooping, low back that didn’t leave much to the imagination. “You’ll have to convince the prick to tell me where he got it.” Surprisingly, it didn’t bother her at all when Morrigan called Rhys that. Had it been anyone else, it would have set her off, but she wasn’t sure why she thought it was funny.

“You can borrow it,” Feyre suggested with a shrug. Mor looked at her as if genuinely touched that she’d offer. She gave her a small look of appreciation before scrunching her nose and whispering a thank you.

“I need a drink,” Morrigan sighed. She extended a hand to Feyre. “Wanna come grab one with me, Feyre? I’d love the chance to talk to you away from the chaperone.” Morrigan threw a glare at Rhysand and his obvious irritation had the corner of Feyre’s mouth twitching upwards.

“Sure,” Feyre said, standing and taking Morrigan’s hand. Rhys’ eyes blew wide as if he had expected her to turn down the offer as she had all of his offers. Then, just on the principle of pissing him off, she gave him a beaming grin before turning to strut away with Morrigan.

“Morrigan,” Rhysand called after her, tone full of warning. Mor lifted a hand over her shoulder and gave Rhys the middle finger, pulling Feyre up beside her as she leaned against the slightly sticky bar. Morrigan ordered them two of a drink Feyre had never heard of, charging it to Rhysand’s account. She winked, handing the cup to Feyre.

It smelled divine. Even better than the faerie wine she’s been pounding all night. She took a sip through the thin straw and moaned. It was tropical and light, sweet without being overbearing, and overall perfect. Her ideal drink.

Instead of heading back to the booth, Mor drug Feyre out onto the dance floor. She giggled, grabbing Feyre’s hand to spin her around. Feyre did, laughing at the way it made her head feel. The colorful lights oozed into one another as the thumping music rattled her chest. She felt free, alive.

“I’ve needed another girl in the group so badly, Feyre,” Morrigan gushed the confession. “I am so happy the boys have you. They need someone to whip them into shape.” Feyre beamed, cheeks blushing at the idea of being so welcomed. She chewed her bottom lip, dancing to the rhythm and squeezing her eyes shut.

“Are they good guys?” Feyre didn’t know when she decided to ask or decided that she could trust Morrigan enough to be truthful in her answer. Morrigan’s eyes crinkled at the corners as her brown eyes locked on Feyre.

“The best, Feyre,” she said. “Genuinely.”

It felt like an unbearable weight lifted off her shoulders with Mor’s reassurance.

“Don’t get me wrong, they’re all egotistical pricks, my cousin most of all, but they would protect you with their last breath. They would for anyone, really. But especially for you. They may not let on, but they’re over the moon thrilled to have you here with us.” Feyre froze. Cousin? Which of the boys was Morrigan’s cousin then? Mor saw the question in her eyes. “Rhys is my cousin.”

Feyre felt white-hot shame flood her at the idea that she’d ever seen this woman as a threat or something to cause jealousy. She was so kind and welcoming, and Feyre felt guilty that she’d been so quick to judge.

“This drink is fucking amazing,” Feyre giggled. Morrigan waggled her eyebrows at her.

“They do, however, make you quite frisky, so beware,” Morrigan said, pointing at her before she laughed. Feyre closed her eyes again, moving her hips to the beat. She hadn’t felt this good in a long time, if ever. Maybe she really could be happy here. Was this really worse than the life she’d led before?

If she was being honest with herself, which was a dangerous game, it was a pretty sweet deal. She’d swindled her way into three beautiful Illyrian males protecting and worshipping her. She now had a new friend. She had nice clothes and a nice place to live. Rhysand took care of everything. She didn’t have to worry here. It was really fucking nice to not have to worry.

Morrigan looked behind her, waving her arms excitedly and squealing. Feyre swayed on her feet, quickly realizing just how drunk she was starting to get. She scoffed, biting back a laugh at herself and her own clumsiness.

She turned to see who Morrigan had been looking at, and heat flooded her chest. Cassian and Azriel pushed their way through the crowd, looking like dark gods. They scanned the crowd. For her, she realized. When their eyes landed on her face, their entire expression lit up. She gave them a goofy drunk grin, rushing over to them.

“Cass,” she smiled.

“My Feyre girl,” he praised her.

She jumped, wrapping her arms around Cassian’s neck. He lifted her and she twined her legs around his torso, holding him close to her chest with a squeeze. He’d only been gone a few hours, and yet she felt like she’d missed him for years. She pulled her face back from where she’d buried it in Cassian’s neck and reached for Azriel.

“I missed you both today,” she pouted. Cassian and Azriel gave each other a sly look as if having a private joke about just how drunk she was. But for now, she didn’t care. She just knew what felt good. And she sure as hell knew exactly what she wanted, looking at the two of them in normal clothes instead of their fighting leathers, looking utterly devastating.

Azriel grinned at her, moving closer to press his lips to hers.

“I missed you, too, bunny,” Azriel whispered against her lips. She hummed against the softness of his mouth. She knit her hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him into her more. Cassian began to kiss up her neck to her jaw. She broke away from Azriel to press a quick kiss to Cassian’s lips before Cassian slowly lowered her back to the ground.

She tugged her dress back down, feeling slightly shy now. Azriel ran a hand across her lower back lovingly. Morrigan led them back over to where Rhysand still sat with Amren in the booth. Feyre smirked at him suggestively, causing him to raise his brows at her in shock.

She laughed, moving to situate herself in his lap. He hummed his approval, pulling her closer to his chest. She reached out her hands for Azriel and Cassian, who without hesitation, returned the gesture and came to sit on either side of her and Rhysand.

Some deep part of her felt complete and right. Being here, in this place, with her Illyrians. She felt safer and more content than she ever had. Rhysand, hearing these thoughts, was looking up at her with so much surging emotion in his eyes that tears threatened to well in her eyes.

Morrigan sat down next to Cassian, passing Feyre a new drink that she hadn’t even realized Mor had gone to get. She nodded happily, pulling the cup into her hands. Rhysand let out a dark chuckle, his breath caressing her ear in a way that sent shivers across her skin.

“How’re you feeling, Feyre darling?” Rhys asked.

“Fucking amazing,” she said. She closed her eyes with a pleased hum, taking a sip from the yummy liquid in the cup, marveling at the warmth that filled her belly. She felt fuzzy and warm and happy. She sent those thoughts to Rhysand, attempting to share that feeling with him. He looked at her through hooded, lust-filled eyes.

Azriel leaned forward, pulling the cup from her hands and she opened her mouth to cry out in protest until he raised the cup to his mouth and drank deeply. Satisfied, he handed the cup back to her. She reached down and gripped his hand. He laced his fingers through hers. She crossed her legs in Rhysand’s lap and felt Cassian’s broad hand covering her knee, rubbing her skin soothingly with his thumb as he watched the crowd.

Azriel tugged her hand.

“Come dance with me,” he said in her ear. A thrill shot up her spine as she unfurled herself from Rhysand’s lap. He landed a sharp smack to her ass and she gasped. Rhys just smirked at her as Azriel tugged her deeper into the throngs of sweaty, dancing fae.

He found them a relatively open spot and turned to her, gripping her hips and pulling her close to him. She laid her head on his broad chest, breathing in the male scent of him. She could drown in the way Azriel smelled.

She rubbed her hands up and down his back. He massaged her hips, dipping to briefly squeeze her ass before wrapping her in a hug. He groaned, squeezing her tighter to his chest, never feeling like she was close enough.

“This dress is gonna look so good on our floor,” Azriel purred into her ear. She shivered.

“So will this,” she said, tugging at his shirt. “And these.” She gripped the top of his waistband, fingers dipping just barely inside. She felt his stomach twitch in anticipation of her touch and fought back a smile.

“Don’t tempt me, I’ll fly us home right now,” he said.

She giggled, holding his hand and twirling underneath it.

So goddamn beautiful, Rhysand’s voice cooed into her mind. Her eyes flicked over to where he watched her intently, seeing how she moved and pressed her body to Azriel’s. Noticing the diversion in her attention, Azriel grabbed her chin and tipped her face up to his, pressing his lips to hers in an unhurried, sensual way.

She moaned into his mouth and he panted at the noise. She loved the way her every move seemed to make these males go weak in their knees. She loved that they didn’t try to hide that fact from her, either. They wanted her to know just how badly she was wanted.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Morrigan shouted. “Come back, we’re taking shots!” Feyre and Azriel broke apart reluctantly, looking to where Mor was carrying a large tray with an obscene amount of shots stacked on it, headed back to the booth. Feyre squealed as Azriel picked her up, wrapping her legs around his torso, and taking her back to their booth.

Azriel sat in the middle of Cassian and Rhys, Feyre still straddling his lap. Morrigan passed out shots to everyone, making sure everyone knew it was non-negotiable. Feyre faced the Illyrians, waggling her eyebrows before tipping her head back and taking the shot. She grimaced at the burn, shaking her head slightly.

Azriel chuckled, the three Illyrians also throwing their shots back. Of course, none of them even made a face. She rolled her eyes, leaning forward to lick a line up Azriel’s neck. He hissed under her touch, gripping her hips to pull the center of her harder against himself.

“I can feel the heat of you against me,” Azriel groaned into her ear, only loud enough for Feyre to hear. Goosebumps spread across her skin. “ ‘S driving me crazy.” He kissed her neck softly and she arched.

“Ooookay, I’m taking this as a dismissal. Amren, you’re dancing,” Morrigan joked. Feyre threw her an apologetic glance to which Mor only winked. Amren grumbled, cursing Feyre under her breath as Morrigan drug her deeper into the crowd.

Now alone in their booth, Feyre pulled back to look at her males. She gave them all a shy grin. Being here with them felt so right. She felt whole.

She gasped as Azriel slipped a hand between them, gently caressing the front of her panties. She was hungry for his touch, needy to feel their hands all over her body as she writhed under their praise and affection.

She throbbed against Azriel’s hand and he swore.

“So fucking wet and warm,” he huffed, massaging the fabric over her clit. She pressed her pussy against his hand, grinding into his fingers and desperate for more.

Rhysand tucked a piece of hair behind her ears and she realized they’d both been watching. Of course, they had. Rhys and Cass moved simultaneously, both pressing a mouth to either side of her throat. She moaned before she could stop herself and Azriel pulled away his touch. She whimpered.

“Turn around in my lap, bunny. I want everyone to know just what I can do to you,” he growled. She paused. She wanted to so badly, but she was afraid of being seen. She bit her lip, turning anyway. The booth was mostly blocked from the view of anyone else, anyway. Plus she knew they were all too possessive to ever let anyone actually see anything.

Her back lay against Azriel’s chest. Cassian and Rhysand each wrapped their hands around a thigh, exposing her cunt to the nightclub air as they spread her wide, taking a leg in each of their laps, between their own legs.

Cassian and Rhysand began trailing their fingers up and down the sensitive parts of her inner thighs. She felt blood rushing to her core, wetness pooling between her legs. She writhed back against Azriel, desperate for him to touch her.

Rhysand summoned his darkness, shrouding her lower half from the view of prying eyes that may have seen and noticed what they were up to. Azriel’s hand trailed back between her legs. This time, he pushed the fabric of her panties aside.

He growled at her wetness, allowing his fingers to drift through her slick, basking in how aroused she was at the thought of him. Cassian and Rhysand’s hands trailed higher still. She needed more, needed them inside her.

“Greedy girl couldn’t even wait until we got home before she needed my hands on her pussy, huh?” Azriel purred into her ear, nipping at her earlobe.

“She’s drenched,” Cassian groaned. “Fucking dirty girl. Anyone could look over and see you writhing under our touch. Is that what has you so wet, Feyre? Do you like the idea that anyone could see?”

Feyre whimpered, not above begging at this point. Luckily, she didn’t have to. Azriel pressed one finger gently into her pussy, the slight stretch a reprieve to her desperation. She growled when he added another finger, pumping in and out of her at a nauseatingly slow pace.

Rhysand began to trace circles over her hardened nipple, and Cassian did the same on his side. They were toying with her, seeing just how worked up they could get her without satisfying her.

“Please,” she whimpered as quietly as she could.

“Please, what, sweet love?” Cassian said against her neck, pressing his lips against her smooth, delicate skin before dragging his teeth across it.

“I need more,” she pleaded, grabbing a handful of Cassian’s white tee shirt. He chuckled against her neck, nipping at her skin once more.

“Tell me what you need, Feyre,” Azriel murmured as he kept plunging his fingers in and out of her soaking wet pussy. She was undoubtedly making a mess of his trousers, and she was incredibly thankful that they were black.

“I want you to fill me with your cock,” she begged.

“Right here?” Azriel purred, fucking his fingers into her a little harder and a little faster. “You want my cock where anyone could see you wrapped around me?” She nodded and he cursed under his breath.

“Aw, does Feyre need to be filled like a good little whore?” Cassian goaded.

“Please, please, please,” Feyre babbled. She knew it was irrational and stupid. She knew it was a terrible idea. And yet, the alcohol flowing through her system instructed her to take her pleasure and forget the rest.

“Listen to me carefully, Feyre,” Azriel said, his voice a rumble in his chest. “You are going to stand exactly where I place you, and you are going to listen to my instructions like a good girl. Do you understand?”

She nodded and he stood her up off his lap, positioning her so her body blocked the view of him. She tugged the edge of her dress down, feeling slightly insecure now that her body was no longer touching his. She heard the clinking of his belt buckle but knew better than to move. Azriel unzipped his pants, freeing his massive cock and stroking himself a few times.

He gripped her waist, pulling her back to him.

She gasped as she felt the head of his cock massaging the wet lips of her pussy. She bit her lip to keep from moaning his name. He slowly pulled her back and onto him, guiding her and being as gentle as he possibly could until he filled her entirely. She felt so full, so complete. She could feel the size of him in her stomach, amazed that he’d even fit inside of her.

She wanted him to fuck into her roughly, to make her feel good. He sat her fully back on his lap, both of her legs pressed together between his. He sat back, cursing and running a hand up her back.

“You’re so fucking tight, Feyre,” Azriel growled. “You fit me so well. No other pussy has ever fit me so well, gripped me so tight. Fucking made for me, aren’t you?” She keened under his praise, grinding her hips back into him. He snarled, grabbing her hips hard enough to bruise and stilling her.

She whined, frowning back at him.

“Need you to be my best girl, Feyre. Keep my cock warm for me, and when we get home I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk.” She moaned at his filthy, delicious words. Gods, she wanted that more than anything. She could be patient if he was her reward. Surely he wouldn’t be able to stand it very long either… Right?

“Look so pretty all filled up,” Rhysand praised, still rolling the nub of her nipple between his fingers. She bit her lip at him.

“Rhys, kiss me,” she begged. His eyes darkened as he leaned forward, taking his lips against hers. He sensually let their lips glide sensually and slowly against each other. The feel of it threatened to burn her alive. She felt herself clenching and throbbing around Azriel. He hissed, fucking up into her with one rough thrust. She gasped into Rhysand’s mouth and he swallowed the sound.

Cassian’s hand found Feyre’s clit, rubbing it in slow, enticing circles. Feyre ground her hips against Azriel’s cock, but he once again stilled her. He was so deep inside her, pushing against her cervix in the most intoxicating ways. She needed more of him, all of him. She wanted him unhinged and fucking her with reckless abandon.

She throbbed around him again and he sank his teeth into her shoulder to muffle his moan. She panted, feeling lightheaded. Cassian pulled his hand back and she pouted. She needed them to take her home and take care of her. She felt so pent up.

“Careful, Feyre,” Azriel warned. “You can’t come around my cock yet. This is not going to be how we bond. I want to take my sweet time with that. So, be a good girl and behave.” Rhys swore under his breath, making Feyre panic. Rhys reached over and pulled the hem of Feyre’s dress lower, pressing her legs together between Azriel’s so it wasn’t visible what she was currently impaled with.

“Morrigan is coming,” Rhys murmured. Feyre’s eyes blew wide.

Azriel felt her panic and let out a dark, rumbling laugh. “Maybe try not to look like you’re taking the biggest dick of your life,” he teased. She nodded, schooling her features to as close to normal as she could manage. Her heart was thundering in her chest, the thrill of it all making her dizzy.

Morrigan and Amren rejoined them, clearly a few more drinks in. Morrigan stumbled slightly, tipping off balance and almost rolling her ankle. Amren’s cheeks were flushed and she was hiccuping, but she hid her intoxication better than Morrigan. Which honestly, only made Mor more endearing to Feyre. She was just so grateful to finally have a friend. “Okay,” Morrigan giggled. “I am starving. Amren and I are walking home. If we stop at the Rainbow and get heavily greasy food, no we didn’t.” She wrapped her arm through Amren’s. Amren looked annoyed by it, but her body language said differently. She could tell that under the bravado, Amren cared for Mor just as much as Cass, Az, and Rhys did.

The two girls stumbled off to head home. Rhysand enveloped them once again in a shroud of night-chilled darkness, allowing Azriel to lift Feyre up and off his cock. He quickly shoved himself back into his pants, helping her resituate her clothes and pull her dress back down. He smacked her ass, standing up behind her.

“Now, let’s get the fuck home so I can lick the taste of myself out of that sweet little cunt of yours,” Azriel growled. She shivered in anticipation. He grabbed her hand, following Cassian and Rhysand to the door of Rita’s.

Once they emerged into the cool night air, Feyre took a deep breath and felt relief and exhaustion wash over her. She wanted nothing more than to be in that massive bed, tangled up in the limbs of the most handsome men she’d ever laid eyes on.

Cassian lifted her into his arms as the three of them flew home, ready to ravish each other the moment they passed the threshold.

Chapter Text

Azriel’s grin was positively ferocious. It sent a chill down Feyre’s spine, fear and eagerness registering all at once inside her body. He was thrilling and terrifying. She knew just how bloodied his hands were, how much violence he had enacted in his long life.

She stood naked in the middle of the floor of their bedroom, Azriel slowly circling her like prey he was desperate to sink his teeth into. He looked like he wanted to eat her alive, to dominate her in every sense of the word. She’d begun to fear she’d bit off more than she could chew, riling up Azriel to be the first of her Bonds to fuck her.

“You are mine tonight, bunny. No one gets to fill that pretty cunt but me,” he snarled, brushing his fingertips lightly across the back of her neck as he began to walk behind her. He paused, walking closer until his chest was flush against her back.

“Not even Rhys or Cass?” She gulped, voice barely a squeak.

He snarled, arm reaching around her to wrap his hand roughly around her throat, pulling her back against his chiseled chest. He squeezed the sides of her throat, blocking the blood flow and making her dizzy from his touch. It was exhilarating.

“I don’t want to hear another fucking male’s name on your tongue again, Feyre. You do not want to test me tonight,” his voice was a deep rumble against her body, his breath brushing the shell of her ear, causing her to gasp at the sensation and how it made her so utterly desperate for his touch.

She whimpered and he released her throat, hands roaming her body. He gripped her breasts tightly, squeezing and kneading the flesh underneath his powerful, scarred hands. Something about hands so damaged and a man so savage ravaging her body made her knees weak, sending her heart thumping in her ears.

“Okay,” she whispered.

He pinched her nipple, hard. She cried out, brows furrowing.

“That is not how you address me,” he reprimanded. “Try again.”

She swallowed, attempting to remove the lump in her throat, but it refused to ease up. She was all at once terrified and aroused. Wanted to run and wanted nothing more than to stay. It was incredibly confusing and threatened to overwhelm her every sense.

“Y-yes sir,” she murmured. He hummed.

“My good girl,” he purred. “You know, Feyre, you are going to come so many times tonight that you’ll never be able to wash me off of you. I plan to claim you fully and mark you up. I want those other two bastards to know just how hard I made you come. I want you to let them hear it, bunny. Can you do that for me? Can you let them hear when you scream my name?”

She chewed her bottom lip, worry filling her gut.

“I-I thought Bonds weren’t jealous of each other?”

He gave her a dark chuckle, circling to face her. He held the side of her face, stroking his thumb gently across the soft and supple skin of her rosy cheeks. He studied them as if wondering just how he should start making that blush darken with desire. As if he really even needed to try, Feyre scoffed to herself.

“I am not jealous of them. But the Bonding is a territorial claiming. It’s better for us both without them here for now. Just as I’ll offer the same courtesy,” he mused. “I do not fucking plan to share tonight.”

His hazel eyes were blown wide with lust, but he was so irritatingly in control. She wanted to break that control, to flip the power dynamic. She wanted to make him come. To see his own flushed cheeks, eyes rolling back in his head as she worshipped at the shrine of her body, desperate for redemption.

“You’re going to come as many times as I tell you you’re going to come. Do you understand, Feyre?” His dark eyebrows arch expectantly, gaze flickering between her eyes and where his thumb was now caressing her bottom lip.

She was shaking slightly, feeling like a mouse in a trap, a cat using its claws to toy with the mouse moments before the trap snaps shut and the cat feasts on its body. Just as Azriel was about to feast on hers. He’d alluded to as much.

“Are you going to be my bad girl tonight, Feyre? I asked you a question,” he tuts, gripping underneath her chin to force her eyes to meet his again. They’d been running down his hardened body to the hardest part of him. The part she was the most intrigued by.

“I understand, sir,” she nods.

“See, look at you,” he praises with a grin that actually meets his eyes for once. “Good girls get what they want. And what is it exactly that my sweet little bunny rabbit wants?” She raked her teeth over her plump and bruised bottom lip. His eyes snagged there, lips parting slightly. It stroked her ego and fed her confidence, which is the last thing she needed if she wanted to survive the night. Confidence made her reckless.

She decided at the drop of a pin to plaster that steel-plated armor of confidence to her chest, riding valiantly into battle. She wanted him weak for her. She wouldn’t stop until she got what she was after. But she’d need to be smart. He’d know if she was being sly.

“I want your cock, sir,” she said, a demure look in her eyes as she folded her body in on itself slightly, feigning shyness.

He snarled, thumb pressing past her lips.

“Suck,” he commanded. She obliged, tongue swirling across the pad of his finger. He watched her mouth with hooded eyes and parted lips, his breathing becoming more erratic with each passing second.

He pulled his thumb from her mouth, pressing it into his own and sucking off the taste of her mouth with a pleased hum.

“You aren’t ready for me yet, baby. I’d split you in half if I shoved my cock inside you now. I want you wet, stretched, and ready for me, writhing in the throes of your own overwhelming pleasure. Then, and only then, will I fuck you,” He mused, plopping down to lounge in an accent chair, muscled thighs spread wide dominantly.

His eyes roved her body, the filthy thoughts in his mind evident in the expression he wore. He wasn’t trying to hide his arousal from her. In fact, she could see the monstrous size of him pressed against his trousers, aching for release. But she also knew him well enough by now to know that he’d fight his own arousal as long as he physically could.

“You didn’t let me finish,” she purred, gliding towards him with an exaggerated swish of her hips that had his eyes in all the right places.

“Oh?” He asked, distracted entirely by whatever mission she seemed to be on.

She stood between his legs, sitting herself on one of them and wrapping an arm behind his shoulder to hold herself steady.

“Mhmm,” she hummed.

She ran a hand down his chest at an achingly slow pace. His breath hitched, eyes fixated on the path her hands were carving down his body. She drifted her hand even lower, fingers lightly grazing the outline of his dick. Gods, he was fucking huge. The alcohol had worn off enough by now to feel the soreness between her legs from where he’d warmed his cock inside her inside of a full bar.

“Do tell, little mouse,” he grinned, hissing as she gripped him the slightest bit tighter. “I’m eager to hear what my greedy girl wants me to do to her.”

She smiled, still biting her bottom lip. She could tell it was driving him insane to not be able to replace her teeth with his own. But he was letting her play out her own fantasy for the moment. It wouldn’t last, and she knew that. He was too much of a control freak. But it would be so fun for what little he’d allow her to take.

“I want your cock,” she drawled, placing a single finger under his chin to force him to look back at her, “buried in my throat.”

The growl that ripped from his chest was animalistic.

“Gonna be the fucking death of me, aren’t you, bunny?” He let out a humorless laugh. The lust in his eyes had compounded and multiplied. She knew there was no way she’d get to do it for long, but he hadn’t told her no.

Still biting her lip and looking at him from under her lashes, she lowered herself slowly and gracefully to her knees between his legs. Her hands ran possessively up his muscle-corded thighs, exploring his body. She wanted to memorize every crevice, every freckle of him.

Her hands found his belt buckle, taking her sweet time undoing it, taunting him just as he did with her. She knew this was all a test of will and patience for him. Azriel functioned in the bedroom just as he did in life. With an incessant need to control every situation and with deadly patience and an aptitude for torture. It was who he was, by nature.

She undid the button, unzipping his pants as he watched her with a predatory grin. He very much enjoyed the sight of her, prepared to swallow and worship him. He ran his thumb across her lip again, perhaps imagining what it will feel like to have those lips enclosing him.

“Can I suck you, Azriel?” He shuddered at her use of his name.

“Since you asked so pretty,” he grinned, lifting his hips to shove his pants and briefs down his legs, revealing his achingly hard cock. Gods, he was even bigger than she remembered. Her mouth watered as she took him in with her eyes, mentally game-planning how to get him as deeply down her throat as he could possibly go.

“You’re so big,” she mused, eyes wide.

He smirked, eyes dancing with wickedness.

“I imagine you’ll ache for days after I’m done with you,” he murmured, “but not nearly as badly as you’ll ache for me to do it all over again. And again.” She shivered at his filthy intentions. She loved how he was simultaneously gentle and very much not gentle. She knew she’d get a glimpse of his unhinged, rougher side tonight and she couldn’t wait to coax the monster lurking beneath his skin out to play with hers.

“I think I’ll always ache for you,” she agreed. “Ache for your cock, ache for your mouth, for the way you smell… the way you fill me up so completely that I can’t take anymore.” As she mused, she wrapped a delicate hand around his throbbing cock, feeling the hard hotness of his skin beneath her grip.

“Knew you’d have a fucking filthy mouth,” he grinned. She pondered this, giving him one firm stroke and then stopping to look up at him. She waited a few moments and then stroked him again. She had to fight back a taunting grin, knowing she was getting him as riled up as she wanted him.

She wanted him to be a little rough with her, honestly.

“Feyre,” he growled in warning.

“Yes?” She said innocently, batting her eyelashes at him.

He arched an eyebrow in challenge. “My love, you really shouldn’t tease me.”

She furrowed her brows, fake confusion flooding her face. She stroked him again, gripping him tight in her fist this time. He involuntarily thrust up into her hand, stroking Feyre’s ego just as hard.

“Bunny, don’t make me tell you twice.” His voice was so stern it jerked her spine ramrod straight. She slowly leaned forward, being careful to never break eye contact with him as she held out her tongue, allowing him to pant in anticipation before darting out her tongue to swirl and dance around the tip of his cock.

He groaned, a drunken look in his eye. She liked that a lot. She licked a stripe up the bottom from base to tip before taking him as deeply as she could. Which honestly, was nowhere near as deep as she planned to wedge him. She would fit all of him. She would.

“Gods, you’re so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he hissed, bucking his hips and urging- or rather, nearly begging- her to take him deeper. She pulled back, removing her mouth from his cock, a string of spit still connecting her swollen lips to him.

“I’m not breakable,” she said, voice sweet and innocent. “Don’t be gentle with me. If you want my throat, take it.” No, if she’d thought his earlier growl was fierce and animalistic, this was entirely feral.

He gathered her hair into one hand like a rope, twisting his fist around it tightly to ensure he had a good grip. She grinned like mad, an undeniable thrill taunting her to the edge of danger when it came to Azriel. The lines with him would blur between pain and pleasure, balanced on a tedious edge of a blade, and she was fucking desperate for more.

“Open your fucking mouth then,” he snarled. She did just as he said, presenting her tongue for him. He swore under his breath, jerking himself a few times before standing up in front of her, the daunting length of him even more clear to her now. She may have just majorly fucked up. But there would be no going back now. She was in much too deep.

“Such a good little slut for me aren’t you?” He praised her, rubbing the tip of his cock back and forth on her tongue, drool dripping from where her mouth hung open and ready for him. “Just look so pretty. So desperate to choke and gag on daddy’s cock, aren’t you baby? My pretty little cumslut.”

She nodded, refusing to shut her mouth until that was what he wanted. Right now, she wanted to be good. She wanted to make him feel good, drown in his moans and whimpers. She wanted to feel his body shudder and writhe under her touch, because of her mouth.

Because he was hers. Just as much as he planned to claim her, she planned the same for him, whether he’d realized it or not. She would ruin him for anyone else. Whatever he wanted, she was eager to provide. Just as long as he kept looking at her like that. Like he wanted to drown in her, too.

“Relax your throat for me, Feyre,” he murmured. She did her best. He gently caressed the side of her face, pushing forward into her mouth. She felt him hit the back of her throat and gagged involuntarily. He moved to start pulling out when her hands caught the back of his thighs, a groan of protest vibrating against the head of his dick as she forced him deeper inside her. He shuddered with a keen.

The noise only stoked her fire. She bobbed her head back slightly, sliding him deeper with every pass. His hand was still knotted in her hair, but he hadn’t taken control yet. She knew he was just ensuring she wouldn’t throw up on him if he went too rough. Once he realized she wasn’t going to, he wrapped her hair tighter around his fist with a snarl, slamming into her throat to the hilt with a gargled moan.

Wetness pooled between her legs and she pressed her thighs together, desperate for any friction to relieve her ache. She allowed her hand to stray between her legs as she continued to bob her head up and down Azriel’s shaft. She moaned at the slick between her legs, how much she was enjoying him fucking her face. She slowly circled her clit, grinding against her hand as she sucked.

Azriel pulled her off of him and she cried out at the loss of him, brows furrowed.

“Did I fucking give you permission to touch what’s mine?” He was angry. Very angry. She snapped her hand away from her core, her whole face catching on fire.

“N-no, sir. I’m s-sorry,” she stuttered through her embarrassment.

“Whose pussy is that you were touching, Feyre?”

“Yours,” she pouted.

“Damn fucking straight it’s mine. I don’t like my belongings being tampered with, Feyre. Am I clear?” He was scolding her and she was flooded with white-hot shame. “Crystal,” she whispered. The corner of his mouth quirked up at that but was quickly schooled back into his angry possession of her.

“That’s my girl. Now worship my cock like I’m your god,” he sneered. She listened and opened her mouth back to him. He slid back into her mouth with a shuddering moan. She smiled around him, swallowing as many times as she could before he yanked back out, panting. He looked down at her, eyes wild. His hair was mussed out of place, the mask of his control slowly slipping.

With a throaty groan, he slammed all the way back inside her throat. She gagged, but that didn’t stop him, nor did she want it to. He picked up his pace, fucking her relaxed throat. The wet, choking noises mingled with his whines were obscenely beautiful. It was a sound she knew she’d be chasing for the rest of her life.

She held the back of his strong thighs, a plan brewing in her mind. She waited until his pace quickened, growing sporadic, and his vocalizations became more desperate. When he thrust in deep, she held his thighs tight, digging her nails into his skin in a way that made him hiss. She held him deep in her throat, swallowing around him over and over. He couldn’t even form words, just babbles and broken noises. He tried to pull out, but she didn’t let him. She just held on tighter.

His hand wrapped yet another tight wrap around his hand and he yanked her harshly off of him, sending her stumbling onto the floor behind her as he still held her by her hair, glaring down at her as his chest heaved. He was livid.

“You have no idea how badly you just fucked up, bunny,” he said. She whimpered. He roughly let go of her hair. “Lay on the bed. Now.”

She opened her mouth to protest or apologize, she wasn’t sure, but he cut her off with the deadliest look she’d ever seen in her life. It shot fear through her limbs, sending warning bells off in her head that this man was dangerous.

“I’m beginning to think you’re a glutton for punishment. I will not ask again. On. The. Bed. Now.” She scrambled to her feet with a whimper, flailing her limbs in an attempt to get onto the monstrous bed as quickly as she could. Once she was there and her head rested against the pillows, Azriel’s shadows began to trail along her body, light whispers of darkness prickling her skin and flooding her with goosebumps.

With no warning, they wrapped tightly around her wrists and ankles, tightening and jerking, securing her to each post of the bed, leaving her entirely bare and spread for him, unable to fight back or protest.

She whimpered. “I-I don’t think I want to do this anymore,” she whined.

Azriel laughed, loudly. And cruelly.

“Oh, bunny, how many times do I have to tell you I make the rules? You’re powerless. I say when you come. I say how many times you come. I say whether you can even come at all. I own your body. It’s mine. This mouth, this dripping cunt. All. Mine.” She shuddered.

He stood at the end of the bed, looking at her splayed open before him with ferocious pride and unquenchable lust. The way he looked at her set her very bones on fire. She was consumed by him, inside and out. He was right. He did own her. She knew she’d never be able to move on, from any of her Illyrians. She was theirs and they were hers. Till the end.

Azriel lithely crawled up the bed, situating himself between her open legs, his face inches from her pussy. She could feel his breath on her and she had never felt more desperate in her entire life. She wanted him to dominate her, to ruin her. To cover every part of her until he was all that was left.

“What a mess you’ve made of yourself, bunny,” he taunted, admiring just how wet she was for him. “Sucking my cock gets you this wet?” She nodded. A wolfish grin devoured his face. He was a wolf in sheep's clothing, lying in wait for her to get a little bit too close.

He lowered the flat of his tongue to her left inner thigh, sucking harshly. She writhed as much as she could, which was not much at all. He drug his teeth across her skin, marking her and leaving a purple bruise. He continued his movements, leaving a trail of hickeys up to the crease between her legs and her pussy, then switched to her right side to mimic his path.

He pulled back to look at her and how hard she was biting her lip.

“I thought I told you to let them hear you, bunny,” he scolded. She swallowed, nodding.

“Okay,” her breath was shaky.

His tongue licked the junction between her legs and pussy, swirling his tongue as she groaned, desperate to move, but unable. She yanked as hard as she could on his shadows, but they didn’t give an inch. They held fast, holding her in the most vulnerable position, ready for Azriel to plunder and ravage, taking what he wanted from her.

“Please, please, please,” she begged, tears forming in her eyes from how frustrated she was that he was teasing her so much. He was right. She regretted teasing him. Though, if she were being honest, she thought he might have planned to do this all along, anyway.

“Please, what, bunny?”

“Please touch me,” she begged. He chuckled, licking the junction of her on the other side, the skin hyper-sensitive to his tongue’s ministrations.

“I am touching you, love,” he said against her skin. She whined, tugging at her restraints.

“Pleaseeee,” she cried.

“Where do you want me to touch you, Feyre? Tell me, and my mouth and fingers are yours, baby.” He was goading her, knowing she’d lost the sharpness of her tongue in her desperation for him and his every touch.

“Azriel,” she begged.

“Tell me where, Feyre,” he murmured, raising himself up to swirl a tongue around the bud of her hardened nipple. Each flick of his talented tongue sent shockwaves to her core, heat swelling and roiling low in her belly.

“Please eat my pussy,” she begged, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes.

“Mmm, don’t mind if I do,” he smiled, teeth tugging harshly at her nipple before releasing it and moving back to his position between her legs.

He licked a long line up the center of her, moaning at her taste and feel. She gasped, the touch literally stealing the air right out of her lungs. His tongue felt lightyears better than she ever could have imagined, and she’d imagined a pretty fucking good time. But this? This was transcendental.

His tongue explored every part of her cunt, not missing a single part of her as he prepared her for her pleasure. She ground her hips into his face, which earned a groan of approval from him. He pressed his tongue inside her, flicking it slightly and she screamed. She felt the vibrations of his laughter against her.

His tongue slid through her slick and up to her clit, circling it a few times before finally, finally giving her what she desperately needed. She let out a keening howl as he sucked her clit into his mouth.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised. “My Feyre. Let them hear just how good it feels to be eaten by me.” She sobbed, tears sliding down her cheeks, hot and salty.

His mouth was so warm, so wet, so all-consuming. Within a minute, he had her legs uncontrollably shaking beneath his mouth. She screeched like a banshee, thrown into her pleasure and uncontrollably careening towards the most exquisite bliss she’d ever felt.

Except it didn’t stop, even when she became so sensitive that she thought she would explode. She begged and sobbed and convulsed underneath him, but he paid her no mind, dragging a second orgasm from her.

When he still didn’t stop, she genuinely felt like she might be dying.

“Azriel, Azriel… my GOD, Azriel,” she wept, his name a mantra, a prayer, a belief system.

“That’s right, baby, I am your god,” he cooed into her pussy, only pausing long enough to say the words before her clit was sucked right back into his mouth. Her body was shaking so violently that it was a good thing she was tied up or else she probably wouldn’t be able to control herself from kneeing him in the face.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, GOD PLEASE, I’M BEGGING-” she choked on a sob as she tumbled into her third consecutive orgasm, something she didn’t even think was fucking possible. She blacked out slightly, seeing spots in her vision as her limbs squeezed so tightly she felt like they might snap.

By the grace of the god himself, she found relief when he finally removed his mouth. His face was fucking soaked with her cum, dripping down his shin. He gave her a Cheshire cat smile as if he’d just won the lottery. She heaved, chest rising and falling violently as she tried to allow some sense to re-enter her body. She truly just died and was resurrected.

“Did so fucking good for me, my girl,” he praised. “You taste like the fucking apple from Eden, baby. Sinful and delightful.” She squirmed at his words.

“C’mere, please... Need you,” she pleaded. He didn’t listen. In fact, he ignored her request entirely.

“Such a good warm-up, baby. Are you ready to get started?” At his words, her jaw unhinged so hard it popped. Warm-up? Was he insane?

“Azriel, please, I can’t,” she was sobbing again, tears pouring from her eyes. She was still so sensitive. She couldn’t even imagine what he still had in store for her. He began to crawl up her body slightly, and she thought for a hopeful moment that he’d given into her, but she knew better.

He brought her nipple back between his teeth, flicking his tongue over the top and twisting it between his teeth. She arched off the bed, curdling sob clawing its way out of her chest. She was bound to lose her voice at this point.

“Fucking love when you scream for me,” he growled.

She felt his hand at her cunt and squirmed to get away from his touch, but it did no good. He pressed a finger inside of her with a moan.

“So goddamn tight, so fucking perfect. I’m gonna fucking break you in half with my cock, baby. We’re gonna have to stretch you out nice and good,” he said, mouth still on her nipple. She bucked her hips against his hand, pushing his long fingers deeper inside of her.

He added a second finger, pushing in and out of her harder and faster. She moaned and writhed, in love with the way his fingers felt inside of her. He added a third, the stretch sickeningly sweet as he opened her up to him. She did her best to relax and allow him in.

After a minute or two of plunging his fingers into her sopping wet pussy, he finally pulled out and pulled his body over hers, cock pressed against her core. She ground her pussy against him, spreading her wetness along his shaft. He groaned, latching his teeth onto her neck harshly.

He pulled back to look down at her for a moment, pushing her hair out of her sweaty face, and tucking it behind her ears. He stroked her cheek lovingly as he just looked at her, admiring the way she flushed for him.

“Selfishly, I want your hands all over me,” he said at the exact same moment his shadows released her aching limbs. It felt like being released from a trap. She supposed it was. But she didn’t care. She wildly wrapped her hands around him, knotting into his hair and pulling his mouth down to hers, their swollen lips devouring each other. She could taste the salty taste of herself on his tongue, and she nearly came all over again.

She wrapped her legs around his torso, using them to grind him into her pussy harder. He gritted his teeth with a hiss, reaching a hand between them to grip his cock. He ran the head of it along the slit of her cunt, occasionally using it to massage her slightly calmed down clit.

“Wanted to drag this out so much longer, but I need you too badly, baby. I need to feel that warm wet cunt hugging and milking my cock, filling you to the brim. Need to feel you clench and come around me,” he was teasing himself more than her at this point.

Finally, he pressed into her slightly. He pulled back to look at her face as he without warning and slammed in to the hilt. She gasped, eyes flying wide and eyebrows screwing upwards. He truly was splitting her in half.

The moan that tore from his chest was ripped from the very fabric of his soul. He pulled out to the tip and plunged back in. It felt like coming home. He filled a deep cavern inside of her that she hadn’t even known was there. Her heart was burning, reaching for his as she could feel the two of their souls entwining in such a permanent way she knew he’d been right. She’d never be able to wash him off. He was a part of her now, etched into her skin.

Which he sought to remind her with bites and love marks across her chest. She repaid the favor, which she could tell he might’ve even liked better.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FEYREEEE….” he groaned her name, sending shivers down her spine. “Never felt anything like you before. Holy hells, you’re fucking magnificent. Never gonna get enough of you. Gonna have to tie me to a fucking tree to keep me away from this pussy. Gripping me so fucking tight. GOD-” He was babbling, choking on his praise as he neared his climax.

“Gods, Azriel, so full,” she cried. He thrust into her harder, more erratically. Her stomach wound tightly, thighs clenching as her feet pressed against her ass, driving him somehow deeper inside of her.

“Gonna fill you, bunny. Coming inside this sweet fucking pussy as deep as I can,” His voice was so deep, so raw and unhinged.

With one last final thrust, they both came. She clenched around him so tight his eyes rolled back into his head in ecstasy, guttural moans pouring from his mouth like water. She matched his cries, the sounds of them echoing off the walls.

Their souls knit together in a final climax, both of them feeling the invisible golden strings in their chests fissure together and mend something neither of them had even realized was broken. The Bond was completed, and they were permanently bound and promised to each other.

They gasped and panted into each other’s mouths, Azriel still buried deep inside her. They squeezed each other tightly as if neither could bare to let go. A few tears streamed down Feyre’s cheeks because of the blinding golden love that settled in her chest for the shadowsinger.

Finally, he pulled out of her, and they both whimpered at the loss. Azriel watched his cum leak out of her with a pained look on his face as if he’d never seen a more beautiful sight in all of his life. Shockingly, Feyre no longer felt nervous underneath his gaze. Excited nerves, yes, but not embarrassment. She didn’t fear what he might think of her, because she knew. She could feel it in her chest just as certainly as she could feel her own feelings.

Azriel lifted her gently, taking her to the bathroom. While she used the bathroom to avoid a UTI, he ran a bath in the gigantic tub, bubbles and all. It smelled divine. He’d chosen the honeysuckle soap, which she wasn’t sure how he’d figured out was her favorite one.

Azriel looked at her adoringly, telling her he’d be right back before he disappeared. Finally allowing herself to take a breath, she looked at herself in the mirror. She was coated in bruises from Azriel’s punishing mouth, and she felt a swell of pride to bear his marks, knowing he had just as many on his warm, tanned skin from her own mouth.

Azriel came back with Rhysand and Cassian in tow, and Feyre’s knees almost went weak. She wasn’t sure how he’d known that this was what she needed, but she had. Azriel cradled her to his chest, stepping into the bath. Rhys and Cass stripped their clothes, climbing in after them.

They coddled her, rubbing her back and telling her how much they adored her. She ended up falling asleep against Azriel’s chest in the bath, and woke up warm in his arms, in his shirt and a pair of his boxers in their bed, all three Illyrians breathing deeply and softly as they slept. She may have let a few more tears fall before sleep reclaimed her.

Chapter Text

Feyre woke with a dramatic gasp, her bare ass stinging from the handprint now branded into it. Warm, wide hands gripped the flesh there, massaging and soothing the burn. Cassian had a goofy grin plastered on his face as he stood above her, the perfect picture of a greek god.

One curl fell down his forehead, an escaped strand from the bun he typically wore in that dark hair of his. His hazel eyes danced with mischief as he bent to plant a smacking kiss on her temple. She groaned, rolling her face into the pillows. It was still dim in the room, letting her know it was incredibly early. She’d gotten used to the routine of waking up in bed alone, all three males masochistic in their incessant need to be early risers.

“Go away,” Feyre griped, voice muffled by the pillow it was currently shoved into. A sharp pain on her opposite ass cheek as Cassian sank his teeth into it, leaving a bite mark imprinted on her skin. She shrieked, rolling over to limit his access to his continual abuse of her ass.

“Just look so delicious, had to take a bite,” he smirked. She glared at him, eyes throwing daggers. He just grinned wider, only spurred further by her lack of cooperation. He was a stubborn bastard; she’d give him that.

“Is there a reason you’ve woken me up before it is humane to do so?” He cackled at her complaint, moving to the closet, disappearing for a moment, and coming back out, pulling a white tee shirt over his head, the fabric hugging his shredded torso in a way that felt intoxicating to look at.

Gods, she needed to get a grip. None of them had made a move on her since Azriel had buried himself inside her days ago. The marks he’d left had begun to fade, and Feyre hated to admit the sad tug it caused in her chest.

It wasn’t for lack of desire, not on Feyre’s part anyway. Every time she’d slunk into their dim room in a skimpy lace nightgown or some frilly underthing, they’d all smiled and told her she was beautiful, but promptly fell asleep. She was ready to admit it was frustrating. If these Illyrians wanted to play games, she’d just need to play harder. She would get her way one way or another.

“I’m taking you with me today while I work,” he said. “No more sitting around staring at walls.” She could have killed him with the amount of ire in her eyes. That same big, goofy grin was plastered across his face. He was a sadist.

“What does that entail?”

“Get dressed and find out, little mouse,” he taunted, wiggling his eyebrows at her as he vanished into the bathroom, and she heard the faucet turn on. He came back to lean in the doorway, brushing his teeth.

“Now,” he growled, the white bubbles of toothpaste at the corners of his mouth and his voice muffled by his toothbrush. She huffed, throwing back the blanket and stomping into the closet.

She pulled on a pair of leggings and a long sleeve tee shirt of Rhys’ and pulled running shoes on. She wasn’t sure what Cassian was making her do today, but she knew she would want to be comfortable and that it was also highly likely he had her doing some form of exercise by the end of it. So better to be prepared than not.

Cassian flew them further into the snow-capped mountains that loomed in the distance from their townhouse in Velaris. He didn’t really talk much the whole flight but held her pressed tightly into his chiseled and broad chest. She could feel the warmth of his skin radiating through his shirt and into hers.

Landing in some form of outdoor training area, her eyes landed on the sparring males, stomach dropping to her ass at the realization that they all had towering wings like Cassian’s. Illyrians. He had taken her to Illyria.

She swallowed harshly attempting to get rid of the forming lump in her throat, but it was useless. Cassian grinned like mad when he felt her tense next to him and noticed her uncomfortable shifting.

“Cassian,” she hissed, voice panicked.

“Yes, little mouse?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Why did you bring me here?” The males had seen her by now, their gazes positively predatory in nature. It sent chills across her skin, and not in a good way. It felt like her skin was crawling.

He shrugged. “Fun?”

“Fun?” she shrieked. He chuckled.

“Want to train with me, mouse?”

Her eyes rounded at the corners, panicking about what training would entail. Would all of these Illyrian males see her Bond knock her flat on her ass? Had he brought her here for embarrassment's sake? To teach her some kind of lesson?

“I don’t know how,” she confessed, heat in her cheeks.

“I’ll teach you,” Cassian said happily.

He gestured for her to follow him into the training pit. He pulled on his siphoned gloves, red gems glaring angrily as they radiated with Cassian’s strength. He grabbed her chin gently, tipping her eyes up to meet his.

“Watch what I do. Note the way my body moves and my technique. I want you to feel comfortable in your ability to defend yourself. I had to be in Illyria today regardless, and figured I’d use it as an excuse to steal you away and to give myself a bit of peace of mind knowing I’ve at least taught you basic self-defense.” He tucked a wind-blown strand of her hair behind her ears with a soft smile.

“Okay,” she said, nodding. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, leaving to call over a couple of the Illyrian males to spar. One of the males was nearly- yet not quite- Cassian’s size. His hair was buzzed to his head and a mean scar slashed through his eyebrow. Feyre’s stomach churned with nervousness. Cassian pulled his shirt over his head and squatted down into position.

The two began to fight, a blur of limbs and the violent red flashing of Cassian’s siphons. Within no time, a delicious sheen of sweat coated Cassian’s carved abdominal muscles, and Feyre felt that familiar tightening ache between her legs at the sight. Cassian was a god among men. She wanted to lick the sweat right off of him.

Cassian flipped the other Illyrian, who Feyre came to know was called Dario, over his shoulder and the Dario landed with a sickening smack on his back. Cassian bellowed with pride, and Feyre had to admit the slick that formed at the apex of her thighs at the sight of him drenched in sweat and panting, looking at her with untamed hunger in his eyes.

“Oh, fuck this,” Cassian complained.

She bit her lip. His eyes darkened, and she had no time to react before she was slung over Cassian’s shoulder, and he was stomping away from the crowd of Illyrians that had started another sparring match. Cassian walked them to the side of a small building.

He sat her on her feet and gripped her chin tightly in his hand.

“Hands on the wall,” he growled. She bit back a whimper, turning to place her palms against the wood of the cabin. She felt him pressing against her back, heat roiling off of him. She could feel his breath against her ear, and it sent a shiver across her skin.

“Feyre, do you have any idea what you do to me?” He asked her, rubbing his hands gently up and down her thighs. She shook her head, biting hard on her bottom lip.

He pressed harder into her back, and she felt it then. The hardness of his cock dug into her back harshly, showing just how much he wanted- no, needed- her. She gasped as he ground himself against her slightly.

“You make my cock fucking ache, Feyre,” he sighed against the shell of her ear. She moaned at the deep, sensual nature of his voice. Cassian could bring her to her knees with one word. He knew it, too.

“Cass,” she panted, trying to turn to look at him, but he landed a sharp smack on her ass that had her placing her hands right back where he’d told her to. Finding her once again in the position he wanted, he continued exploring her body with his hands.

His warm palms rubbed down her thighs and back up again, this time pushing under her shirt to graze her bare skin. She pushed her ass back into him and he hissed. His palms found her sports bra and pushed underneath that too, squeezing her breasts in his hands.

“Fucking perfect,” he growled as he kneaded her flesh, using his grip to pull her back against him harder. “Do you know why I haven’t fucked you yet, Feyre?”

She shook her head. “No,” she said quietly.

“I’ve been dying to bury my cock inside of you since I first saw you,” he said. “Just know that fucking pussy is gonna grip me so goddamn tight.” Wetness pooled in her underwear, her pussy throbbing at his words.

“Please,” she begged, but he ignored her.

His fingers found her nipples, pinching and twisting the hardened buds of them against his fingertips. She moaned, arching her back and sucking in a breath. He was going to kill her. Well and truly kill her.

“But I wanted you desperate, Feyre,” he went on. “I wanted you to ache for me as badly as I do for you.” She was going to die if he didn’t touch her. He knew what he was doing, knew how badly she wanted all the things he was saying.

“I do, Cass, I do,” she cried out.

He let out a dark chuckle.

“Then fucking beg for it,” he snarled.

“Please touch me, Cassian,” she begged, voice whiny. Tears threatened to well in her eyes with how much she wanted and needed his hands and cock and mouth everywhere.

“Where does my girl want me to touch her?” He mused, pinching her nipples and sending a delicious bite of pain straight to her cunt.

“Everywhere,” she sighed.

He hummed.

“Like this?” His hands left her breasts and one banded across her lower abdomen, holding her firmly against him, and the other gripped the sides of her throat, squeezing enough to give her a head rush. Her hands itched to touch him. But still, she kept them on the wall.

“I need more,” she begged again. “Please, Cassian. Please.”

“Tell me what you need like a good little slut and I’ll consider giving it to you,” he said, squeezing tighter. Blood rushed to her head and she sucked in a shallow breath.

“I want you to fuck me,” she moaned.

He released her throat.

“There’s my good girl,” he praised her. “Is that all?”

She shook her head.

“I want your fingers on my clit and inside me,” she pouted. She could practically feel his ego growing in size at her words. “And then I want to feel your tongue inside me, too.”

Cassian growled, the hand that wrapped around her abdomen moving to rub slow circles across her lower belly, falling lower with each pass, teasing the life out of her and waiting until she was writhing under his touch to dip his fingers into the waistband of her leggings. His hand slid beneath her underwear, hand sliding to cup her.

“Fucking mother above, Feyre, you’re soaked,” he moaned, fingers sliding through the arousal pooled in her underwear for him. “My fucking good little slut, so ready for me. Makes me almost wanna slip my cock in you and take you right here.”

She bucked her hips against his hand, moaning at the glide of his fingers across her clit. She was practically throbbing with need. His fingers explored her lazily, taking his time to discover every inch of her.

“I’m begging you, Cassian,” she groaned.

“However, I have so much more planned for you than that, mouse,” she could hear his sadistic grin in his words. Fuck.

With no warning, he plunged a finger inside of her cunt. She gripped him tightly, crying out at the sudden invasion. She could feel herself pulsating around him and the moan it elicited from the Illyrian was filthy.

“Gods, Feyre, I’m gonna stretch you out so much you won’t be able to think about anything but my cock,” he said, continuing to pump his finger slowly in and out of her pussy. She bucked her hips with each thrust, the heel of his hand adding friction to her clit. He slid in a second finger, already stretching her. “Barely gonna fucking fit.”

“I need you,” she panted.

He pumped his fingers faster and she could do nothing but squeeze her eyes shut, mouth agape as she felt the familiar and wonderful tightening in her stomach. The fact that she was outside and only a few yards away from a pack of Illyrian males was long forgotten. All she knew were Cassian and his cauldron-blessed hands.

Right as she began to come, Cassian yanked his hand out of her leggings. She nearly collapsed with the defeat that flooded her. She’d been close. So godsdamned close. Fuck him. She was going to kill him.

She turned, not caring if he yelled at her for breaking his rules.

Her eyes dazed over when she saw him sucking the taste of her off of his fingers like it was the best meal he’d ever been blessed enough to have. The sight of it was so erotic that she almost came just from watching.

“I told you, mouse. I want you desperate,” he said, eyes glimmering with sinful intentions. She wanted to throw a temper tantrum like an unruly toddler and demand he Bond with her, but she knew better than to demand anything from Cassian.

“I already am,” she whined.

“I know,” he grinned, turning to walk away from her. Her jaw dropped at his audacity. The fucker was just walking away, leaving her there alone and unsatisfied. Her nails bit into her palms as she fumed, stomping after him.

The other Illyrians had cleared out by then, leaving the training area open and free. Cassian gathered two wooden swords, throwing one to Feyre. By some miracle, she actually caught it, and it landed heavier in her palm than she expected.

Cass drilled her through self-defense trick after self-defense trick until Feyre thought she just might stab her own eyes out with the wooden sword. But she had to admit, she was grateful that he cared this much for her safety. It was nearly impossible to wipe the image of him tasting her on his fingers from her mind.

“Alright, Feyre, if you do the drill perfectly one last time, we can be done for the day,” he said, voice serious. Cassian didn’t fuck around when it came to training. He’d been entirely unintimate with her, formal and professional in his training style. It made Feyre appreciate her Bond all the more.

Feyre swung the wooden sword in an arc, twisting and maneuvering her body in marvelously perfect form, and when she finished, Cassian whooped his happiness, howling with pride. He picked her up, wrapping her legs around his torso and pulling her face down to lock her in a passionate kiss.

His mouth moved sensually against hers, tongue swiping across her bottom lip before tugging it between his teeth and releasing it with a pop. “My fucking girl,” he beamed, smile positively radiant and eyes crinkled with joy. “So fucking proud of you.”

“Proud enough to reward me?” Feyre smirked. Cassian chuckled, kissing her again.

“Absolutely nothing I’d rather do,” he smiled.

He started kissing her again, and she could feel him walking with her in his arms, but she couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when she could feel his cock pressing against her center as he held her against him. She began kissing down the side of his neck, lapping her tongue and swirling it. She sucked hard enough to leave marks, not ashamed at how territorial she felt in that moment.

Cassian creaked open a door and Feyre felt the immediate comforting warmth. Finally, her curiosity got the best of her, and she lifted her head to search her surroundings. They were inside a cozy, warm cabin. A fire already roared in the hearth, and she could smell food wafting from the kitchen. Her stomach growled.

Cassian sat her down, gesturing for her to take a seat at the large table.

“Dinner before dessert, mouse,” he grinned.

“Dessert?” She asked, brows furrowed.

His eyes roved her body and her cheeks heated. Oh. Dessert.

“Nothing sweeter in the world,” he purred. She tucked her hair behind her ears, tugging at her sleeves and taking a seat. Cassian brought out massive plates of food for the two of them and they both ate in silence, neither one of them realizing how hungry they’d been up until that point.

Once they finished, Cassian cleared the table and picked Feyre up in his arms, spinning her so she was now sitting on top of the table. He pressed a broad hand to her stomach, laying her back. She was shaking slightly, suddenly nervous under his stare. There was something more intense about it than earlier. More personal.

His fingers gripped the tops of her underwear and leggings, pulling them down. She lifted her hips slightly, aiding him in slipping her free of any barriers that kept him from what he was really after. He then sat her back up, pulling Rhysand’s shirt up over her head and throwing it somewhere behind him. She was now entirely naked and sat on the dining room table, panting in anticipation.

His fingers gripped her chin lightly, forcing her to look into those incredible hazel eyes. She could fall into them and get lost. Cassian was equal parts fire and tenderness. He would be rough with her but would always make sure she knew just how much he needed her, too.

He pressed his thumb to her lips, and she opened her mouth for him. He placed it on her tongue, and she sucked, circling her tongue around his finger. His lips parted as he watched her, eyes hooded with lust.

“You’re mine, Feyre,” he said softly.

“I’m yours,” she confirmed with a nod, words slightly muffled by the finger still in her mouth. He pulled it from her, pushing her to lay back again.

He yanked her hips to the edge, pushing her knees apart to bare her to him. She felt the cool air against her wetness and writhed, desperate for his touch. His hands rubbed her knees gently as he devoured her with his eyes.

“Fucking art,” he mumbled under his breath. He lowered himself to his knees, throwing one leg over either shoulder. The anticipation of him was a thrumming buzz in Feyre’s veins, threatening to electrocute her if she wasn’t careful.

“This pussy is all mine,” he said with a low snarl.

“All yours,” Feyre whispered. He shuddered, leaning forward and wasting no time as he lavishly lapped his tongue against her cunt. She gasped at the warm wetness of his mouth, the exquisite feeling against her.

“Fuck, Cass,” she hissed. He hummed against her, the vibrations of it sending her back arching up and off the table. She palmed her own breasts, rolling her nipples between her fingers as Cassian began to flick his tongue against her clit.

“Could eat this pretty cunt for days,” he praised, sucking her clit into his mouth. He sucked harshly against her, ripping screeching, keening moans from her throat. She was sure they could hear her all the way in Velaris.

“Your tongue feels so good,” she moaned. He gripped her hips roughly, pushing his face against her harder as he inserted two fingers into her pussy, fucking her with them. The noises of Cassian’s fingers in Feyre’s cunt were salacious.

Cassian pulled his face back to look down at Feyre spread open for him and let out a feral groan, palming himself through his pants. “Gods, Feyre. It’s taking everything in me to not just split you in half with my cock.” She mewled, writhing in an attempt to get him to touch her again. He took the hint and buried his face back in her pussy.

He added another finger, stretching her and readying her to take him. He suckled on her bundle of nerves, causing her legs to twitch wildly. She buried her hands in his hair with a firm grip and pushed his face against her farther, still feeling like he’d never be close enough.

Her legs tensed, orgasm budding low in her belly. Pure blinding pleasure rocked her as she squeezed her eyes shut, making inhuman noises as her back arched up off of the wood of the mahogany dining table.

Cassian hummed deep in his throat, sending her over the edge and plunging into the depths of her pleasure. Once he rode her through her high, he pulled back and looked at her with pure, unbridled desire.

He gripped the back of her neck, pulling her to sit up so her face was an inch from his. His eyes flicked to her lips and back up with hitched breath.

“C’mere and taste just how good you did for me, mouse,” he said softly, pressing his lips to hers. She could taste herself on his tongue and for some reason, it just turned her on more. He slid his tongue against hers, slowly bringing her back down to earth.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes held a darkness that hadn’t been there before. He rubbed her jaw affectionately before gripping a fist full of hair at the nape of her neck. She could smell the musky, woodsy scent of him. So purely male, so Cassian. She wanted to drown in it.

“Cass, I want you,” Feyre cooed.

“I want you to bend over this table for me, okay, mouse?” She nodded, and once he stepped back, she hopped off of the table and bent over the side of it, baring her ass to where he stood behind her, watching. She pressed her thighs together, already dying for the friction.

Feyre heard the rustling of fabric behind her and knew that Cassian had taken the rest of his clothes back. He walked closer to her, foot kicking the inside of both of hers. “Feyre, you saw how big my cock is. Make some room for me, baby,” he drawled. She bit her lip, doing as he said.

She felt him press the tip of his dick to her core, gathering her wetness and spreading it over her clit as he used his cock to pleasure her. He then notched himself at her entrance reaching to knead both of her ass cheeks in his massive palms, spreading her open for him even further.

“Take a deep breath, mouse,” Cassian instructed. She listened, filling her lungs slowly as she felt him begin to press inside her. She panted, squeezing her eyes shut as he stretched her fully around the incredible length of him.

“So full,” Feyre moaned. Cassian murmured to her that she was doing a good job, as he reached and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“You take me so fucking well, Feyre. Fucking made for me,” he groaned as he pushed in another inch. “Just so damn tight.” He let out a deep rumble from his throat. With one final push, his pelvis met her ass, fully inside of her. She pulsed around him, and he hissed.

She wriggled, trying to get him to move. He pressed a gentle kiss to the center of the top of her back before pulling out to the tip and slamming back in, knocking the wind from her lungs and making her gasp.

“I’m not going to be nice, Feyre,” he snarled.

“I don’t want you to,” she breathed.

“That’s my girl,” he said, picking up his pace and fucking her harder and faster, hitting that perfect spot only Azriel had before. He wrapped his hand around her hair, using it to yank her head back and bare her throat.

“F-feel so g-good,” she stuttered, each thrust inside of her having her stumbling over the syllables. He roared as he continued to impale her with his cock.

“Whose pussy is this, Feyre?” Cassian snarled possessively.

“Y-Yours,” she gasped.

“Whose?”

“Yours!”

“That’s fucking right, baby. You’re mine. Mine to punish, mine to pleasure.” His words sent heat swirling through Feyre’s gut. She loved how possessive they all were when it came to her. She’d never felt anything like it before, and she had to admit, she liked it. She’d never felt safer in her whole life.

“Take my cock like a good little slut, mouse,” he groaned. “Tell me how much you like it when I’m this deep inside you.” To emphasize his point, he drove into her harder and deeper if that was even possible.

“Need to be full of you all the time,” she panted. “Never want you anywhere but inside me.” Cassian reached to swirl his fingers around Feyre’s clit, causing her whole body to twitch from leftover sensitivity from her last orgasm.

“Need to feel you come on my cock,” he gritted through his teeth.

“Cass,” she shrieked.

His pace was beginning to become sloppy as he began to get closer to his climax.

Feyre was right there with him, barreling toward her own pleasure.

“Please,” she whimpered.

“My Feyre,” he grumbled. “All fucking mine.”

She would feel those golden threads inside of her chest reaching out to his, attempting to merge two halves of a whole. The feeling was immaculate. It felt like coming home after a much too-long trip. She felt the relief settling in her chest knowing she has another Bonded now and will never be alone again. She would be so well protected, so well loved. It was a feeling she’d chased her entire life. Now it was hers forever.

“You’re magnificent,” Cass said. He slammed into her cunt roughly, the sound wet and pornographic. She howled in euphoria, arching harder so he was even deeper inside her. She could feel him moving in her stomach, breaking and fixing her at the same time.

“I’m gonna come,” Feyre blurted.

“Not yet,” Cassian demanded, still massaging her clit as he fucked her at the perfect angle to hit her g-spot over and over. Feyre cried out, reaching to grip the sides of the table to hold her shaking and twitching legs steadier.

“Please, Cassian,” she begged. “I need your cum inside me.” Cassian shuddered, gripping her hips with bruising force as he fucked her back onto himself. He tipped his head backward, mouth agape and eyes closed as he pounded into her soaked cunt a few more times before stilling, a gargled moan leaving him as he spilled his cum inside of her.

She came then, squeezing around him so tightly she thought he might pass out. Her legs began to shake, but Cassian and the table held her upright. Cassian stilled, leaning down over her to catch his breath.

“You have ruined other women for me forever,” he said, bewildered. His hair was wildly mussed, and his pupils were dilated with his lust. “You’re it for me forever, Feyre.”

He pulled out of her, breath hitching at the way his cum dripped from her pussy and down her legs. He landed yet another sharp smack to her ass cheek and she gasped, shooting upright and turning to him. He grinned.

“I don’t know how I’ve gone my whole life not fucking you,” Feyre sighed in wonder. Cassian laughed again.

“You and me both, mouse,” he said. “Now let’s go get you cleaned up, huh?”

She nodded, lacing her fingers through his as he pulled her down the hallway and into their future together. She allowed herself to imagine what life here might look like for the first time. She had to admit, she liked what she had seen so far. Loved it, if she was being truthful.

“Don’t think I’m done with you, though,” he said, voice serious. She gulped.

Chapter Text

It was a really fucking good dream. Feyre smiled in her sleep, arching her back in a stretch as she lulled herself deeper. In her dream, Rhysand had his head buried between her thighs, his warm mouth devouring her cunt.

She never wanted to fucking wake up. Rhys' tongue delved inside her, exploring and fucking her with his mouth. She groaned, writhing in the white linen sheets. Gods, his mouth was otherworldly.

Seeing the High Lord of the Night Court between her legs was a glorious sight and one she never wanted to leave or forget. He hummed against her, the vibrations of his mouth pulling a deep moan from her.

"Who do you belong to, Feyre?" Rhys asked her, brow arched in a challenging demand. "Who makes this pretty cunt dripping wet? Whose mouth are you dreaming of?" She gasped as he reattached his mouth, sucking her clit lightly between his teeth as he flicked his tongue back and forth across it, molten pulses of pleasure filling her belly and stealing the air from her lungs.

Her back arched forcefully, burying her hands in his onyx hair and shoving his face into her harder, crying out at the feel of him. Nothing felt like Rhysand. Nothing. He landed a sharp smack to her outer thigh, bringing her eyes back to his.

He looked up at her from where she was in his mouth, violet eyes dancing with darkness that edged on insanity. His lust radiated from his skin. The sight alone nearly made her come on his face.

"I asked you a question, baby. Don't make me ask you twice. You won't like me when I'm angry," he said, bending down to bite her clit. She howled, jaw unhinging in shock, but he gave her no reaction, just waited for her answer.

"You," she sighed.

His eyes narrowed and she felt a shock of fear in her heart. He placed a finger absentmindedly at her entrance, swirling it and wetting his skin with her arousal before slowly pushing it inside of her. She growled at the delightful feeling of his long fingers inside her. Her cunt pulsed around his finger, so desperate for more of him she couldn't think.

"Not good enough," He said, not looking at her as he pulled his finger out of her to the tip at an achingly slow pace. His eyes were hooded with lust as he watched his finger push back inside of her just as slowly. Gods, he was fucking driving her crazy.

"I'm yours, please," she whined. He continued his unhurried pace, seeming like it was more for his own pleasure than hers. She arched her back, trying to push herself back onto his finger, but he just pulled out more to avoid her movements.

"Rhys, please," she cried, writhing on the bed as she begged for his touch.

"Hmm," he hummed, sliding two fingers inside of her this time, but just as slowly. She ached for him. She really felt like if she didn't fuck him soon, she'd die. She knew it was dramatic and desperate, but she needed him.

"Rhysand," she whimpered.

"Scream," he said.

"What?" Her brows furrowed. His lips turned down in a frown as he nodded, taking it as a challenge.

He repositioned himself so that his mouth hovered over her pussy once more. He kept his fingers inside of her, massaging the sensitive spot inside of her as he curled his fingers. It was a delicious sensation, but she wanted to feel him in her stomach, fucking her brains out.

"Fucking scream it, Feyre," he growled. "Scream my name, let them hear how desperate you are for my cock all the way in the Spring Court. Cry out to your god for mercy." He sucked her clit back into his mouth with force, ripping a high, keening noise from somewhere inside her she didn't even know existed.

Her back arched harshly, her head thrown back with pleasure as he coupled his suckling on her clit with fucking her faster with his fingers, harder. But still so skillfully that it was infuriating. How did Rhys finger her better than she ever had?

"Rhysand," she gasped.

"Louder, Feyre," he scolded. She sucked in a breath as his mouth briefly left her and then was back moments later. He was going to kill her.

"Rhysand!" She shouted, an obscene moan pouring out of her.

"You can do better than that," he rolled his eyes, biting her clit again. She screeched, tears spilling from the sides of her eyes as he flicked his tongue over her, stopping only to drag the flat of his tongue up the center of her with a pornographic moan before focusing his attention back on her clit.

"Rhysand!!" It literally scratched her throat as it came out, the noise feral.

"That's my good girl," he purred. "Again for me, baby."

Her legs clamped onto his head as she neared her climax, and she again shouted his name. "Please fuck me, Rhysand." It was loud and desperate as it fell from her lips, and all she could hear was his dark chuckle before she was roughly flipped onto her stomach and felt a harsh, stinging slap on her ass.

She jerked up, trying to cover herself from the attack, but he just landed his entire weight on her, hand pushing her head down into the bed with a snarl. She blinked, stomach immediately dropping.

Something was wrong.

The light in the room looked different, and after a few more blinks, she could see a smirking Cassian sitting in an accent chair, arms crossed and looking disturbingly smug. That look never meant anything good, she'd learned.

"You wanna fucking scream? I'll give you something to scream about," Azriel snarled, pushing her head into the bed harder as he scooped a hand underneath her hips to lift her bare ass into the air, exposing her drenched pussy to the cold air.

Her eyes snapped open and she felt like she was going to be ill. Azriel? What the fuck?

Az landed another entirely unplayful smack to her ass, not even bothering to massage away the hurt as he usually did. No, he was fucking angry.

"Tell me Feyre, does he fuck you as deep as I can? Do you feel his cock deep in your stomach, so deep that you worry he might break you in half?" Feyre vaguely registered Cassian snickering.

"W-what?" She whimpered.

Azriel growled again, notching himself at her entrance and allowing her no time to adjust to the massive length of him before he slammed into her pussy, hips meeting hers immediately. Feyre felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She wheezed as he picked up his pace, fucking her with wild and reckless abandon.

"Come on, Feyre," he barked. "Say his name now, huh? Let's hear it."

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Fucking BASTARD.

Rhysand had been in her head, showing her visions of him knelt before her despite the fact that it was Azriel who had woken her up with his tongue buried in her pussy. And he'd made her scream his name over and over while Azriel was who was between her legs. Smug fucking bastard. She could feel the faint hints of his amusement from Rhys' side of the bond.

Tell those bastards to fucking bring you home to me. I don't feel like sharing today, he said into her mind, voice dark and full of lustful promise.

Azriel's hand fell between her legs and he began massaging her swollen clit, immediately sending shaking shocks of pleasure through her whole body, knocking thoughts of anything but him right out of her mind.

His dick slammed into her so deep she really did feel like he might break her. She felt her legs tensing so harshly she feared she may pull a muscle as he continued massaging her clit. She felt herself pulse around his cock, her pussy trying to somehow pull him in deeper as if that was possible.

"So. Fucking. Tight," he said through gritted teeth. The hand that wasn't on her clit was gripping her hip with such force she knew she would bruise. Part of her purred internally at the idea of him marking her up again as he had when they Bonded.

"You take cock like such a good little fucking cumslut," Cassian groaned, immediately snagging her attention. She nearly died when she saw Cassian with his thick cock in his hand, pumping himself as he watched Azriel fuck her within an inch of her life.

She nearly salivated as she watched him with a ferocity she was just now discovering within herself. Azriel rubbed her clit faster, the wet slapping noises of their joining causing her eyes to roll into the back of her head.

Heat exploded in her stomach as she continued to take every inch of him. She felt her grip on him tighten, keeping him from pulling out as far as he had been. She heard the guttural, animalistic noises rumbling from Azriel's chest as his mouth hung open. He leaned his head back, eyes rolling back in his head as he rode her through her high.

"Fill me, Azriel, please," she begged, head still shoved into the bed under his huge hand.

"You're gonna fucking kill me," he groaned, holding her hips as he pulled her back to fuck him. He picked up his speed, thrusts becoming messy and sloppy as he chased his own peak.

She could feel how fucking rock hard he was inside of her, and it threatened to ruin her for good. He thrusted in roughly a few more times before he stilled, pushing inside of her as far as he could, the head of his cock nudging her cervix as he came inside of her, collapsing his sweaty naked body on her back and making the most delicious noises she'd ever heard.

He stayed inside of her for a few moments more before slowly pulling out, watching his cum spill out of her abused cunt. The loss of him was insurmountable, she whimpered at the loss, feeling so suddenly empty.

Another cock notched against her and she went wide-eyed as she felt Cassian behind her now, Azriel's hand releasing her head from being held down.

"No," she whined. "I can't."

"You do whatever the fuck I tell you to," Cassian snapped, forcing himself into her pussy, Azriel's residual cum lubricating her to an exquisite degree. He sheathed himself inside of her, his moans even angrier than Azriel's had been.

"Y-Yes, sir," she stuttered out between his thrusts. His grip on her hips tightened.

"So fucking warm," he whined, exposing his throat as he allowed himself to soak up the sensation of her. "The way you grip my cock drives me fucking insane. It's all I can fucking think about."

She whimpered as a hand gripped the hair at the nape of her neck, yanking her head back forcefully and exposing her throat. Azriel settled himself in front of her, a leg on either side of her body with a sinful smirk.

"Now be a good girl and suck his cock," Cassian snarled, pounding into her harder. Azriel looked at her expectantly and her cheeks heated.

Azriel was already hard again, his rebound time unfathomable. She looked up at him as she slowly lowered her tongue to the tip of his cock, swirling around the head before taking him in deeper. He groaned sensually, tucking his hands behind his head as he lay back, letting her do all the work.

She could still taste herself on him, and it made her throb around where Cassian still fucked her from behind. Feyre closed her eyes and took Azriel deeper into her throat, moaning and sending vibrations straight to his cock. He thrust up into her mouth involuntarily.

"Fuck, Feyre," he sighed, reaching one hand to lazily knot in her hair as he began to control the pace at which her head bobbed around him. "You suck cock like you were born to swallow me."

She took it as encouragement, taking him deep into her throat, deeper than she'd ever taken anyone, and paused. He whimpered- fucking whimpered. A rush of adrenaline flooded her, but her win was short-lived as she heard a faint buzzing behind her.

She lifted herself off of him, turning to look behind her to find the source as Cassian still pushed himself deep inside of her. Azriel gripped her chin with force, turning her head back to him. He was smirking like he'd gotten away with the perfect crime.

"Look at me when I allow you to suck me off, Feyre," he reprimanded, and she nodded. He looked her over with an unmatched smugness as she immediately pushed him even deeper in her throat, causing him to start to shake. It felt so fucking powerful to have an Illyrian shaking underneath her touch.

"Fuck, you're gripping me so tight, Feyre," Cassian groaned as they both continued to work her and she worked them in return. It seemed the two Illyrians had finally met their match.

Then she felt it. Cassian pressed a vibrator directly onto her clit the moment she took Azriel impossibly deeper down her throat. Her eyes rolled back into her head, roaring moan muffled by Azriel's cock. The vibrations had him making that fucking intoxicating sound she'd newly discovered.

Cassian bellowed as she tightened around him, coming in a matter of seconds. She pulled off Azriel, strings of spit still connecting her to him as tears streamed down her cheeks. He'd made such a beautiful mess of her.

Cassian held the vibrator to her clit, long after she'd stopped coming, and she was twitching, howling, and begging. She didn't even know if she was begging him to stop or keep going. The second climax dragged Cassian over with her, his massive cock buried to the hilt as he poured his cum inside of her, slowly pulling out to marvel at their work.

She pushed Azriel's cock back into her mouth, swallowing around him over and over until he was almost begging her. He roughly pulled her head off him and turned her body like she weighed nothing as he firmly held his cock at the base, forcing himself not to come yet.

He pushed her onto her back, crawling on top of her and sucking one of her nipples into his mouth as he pushed back inside her, giving a few panted thrusts before spilling inside of her again. He collapsed backward, a sweaty mess.

Her thighs were coated in their cum, and she had never felt more thoroughly fucked and satisfied. Azriel laughed between panted breaths and Cassian swore under his breath.

At the exact same time, they all sat straight as a rod as Rhysand spoke into all of their minds at once. Feyre swallowed nervously.

You have one hour to bring her to me, Rhys snarled into their minds, his fury tangible.

Azriel grinned at Cassian with a sadistic look in his eye that meant nothing but trouble. He lifted Feyre up, standing her next to the bed and pulling her shirt over her head. He helped her step into her underwear and shorts.

When she began to protest, he gave her a look that had her mouth immediately snapping shut and doing whatever he wanted. He dressed her fully, helping her put on her shoes and tying the laces before quickly dressing himself.

Feyre's brows furrowed as she stared at the floor.

"If you're going back to him, you're going dripping with my cum and smelling like me," Azriel grinned, patting her affectionately on the head. Her jaw dropped open. Fucking bastards. Rhysand was going to fucking kill them.

"Only if he can catch me," Azriel winked, and she realized she must have said that out loud. She shook her head, attempting to clear her thoughts, but the sight of the two Illyrians in their fighting leathers was enough to make it go blank again.

"Come along, little human," Cassian hummed pleasantly, swooping her into his arms. "Gotta take you back to the jailer."

Cassian snickered, letting her know Rhysand had probably heard that, and responded accordingly, only for Cassian to hear. Fuck.

Chapter Text

Climbing out of the shower, Feyre exhaled deeply, closing her eyes to steady herself as she stood in front of the fog-coated mirror. She'd expected Rhys to jump on her and punish her the moment she walked in the door, but she should have known her High Lord better than that. He was not one to make rash decisions. No, Rhys was the kind to plot a slow revenge.

Still, no one had been here when she'd returned to their bedroom from their overnight stay at the cabin in Illyria. Cassian and Azriel had made themselves sparse the moment they'd re-entered the House, more than likely in hopes of avoiding catching Rhys' attention

Feyre wrapped the soft white fabric of her towel tighter around her body, grabbed her pile of discarded clothes, and dropped them in the hamper. She walked to the door, flipping off the light as she walked back into the dim light of their bedroom.

The air felt alive like someone was watching her. Shivering, Feyre narrowed her eyes to search the darker corners of the room in search of the source. A snap of fingers had candles around the room blazing to life, sending shadows of dancing orange and red hues scattering across the walls.

Rhys stood a few feet before Feyre, eyes alight with sinful intentions. He was dressed in his usual all-black, face twisted into possessive anger. He looked like a wolf stalking its prey. He took a languid step forward, causing her to subconsciously take a step backward.

"R-Rhys," she stammered, swallowing.

One of his dark eyebrows quirked upward slightly as he prowled another step forward, tilting his head to one side as he studied her every reaction. His deft fingers found the buttons at the wrists of his sleeves and began unbuttoning the fabric there, rolling them up to reveal the swirling black tattoos that wound up from his forearms to shoulders, sprawling down across his broad chest. All the while, his eyes never left Feyre's.

She squirmed under the weight of his attention, unsure of what to do. A slight scuffling sound had her head whipping behind Rhys. Her jaw dropped as she saw Cassian and Azriel's huge hulking figures sitting in two chairs, arms bound behind their backs. Azriel looked fucking furious, his nostrils flared as he glared ahead at the back of Rhysand's head. Cassian, however, looked positively glib as he lounged back in his chair, looking at Feyre. Catching his eyes, heat swirled low in her stomach, excitement and fear of what Rhysand was going to do making her throb.

"Hi, baby," Cassian grinned at her. Her cheeks heated as she rolled her eyes, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from laughing. Rhysand cleared his throat, snagging Feyre's full attention once again.

"Something amusing, Feyre?" Rhysand asked, voice firm.

She chewed the inside of her cheek to fight the mischievous grin that threatened to spread across her face as she felt Cassian's oozing smugness and the way it made Rhysand prickle. She shook her head. He nodded, frowning.

Rhysand turned a chair she hadn't even noticed he'd been standing in front of to face where he kept Azriel and Cassian bound to their own chairs. Rhys sat down, spreading his legs dominantly as he patted his lap.

"Come sit, Feyre," he instructed. "Let's have a talk."

"Can I at least get dressed?" She rolled her eyes with a huff.

He looked over his shoulder, eyes blazing with anger.

"Do I need to tell you a second time?" He snarled.

The demand in his tone made Feyre squeak slightly, gripping the towel tightly in her hands and scurrying over to gently situate herself onto Rhys' lap. His large arms encircled her possessively, banding his arms to press her back against his chest. He gripped the towel with a growl and yanked it out of her grip, exposing her naked body to the chilled air of their bedroom. In front of them, Azriel sucked in a breath.

Rhysand's broad hands wrapped around the insides of her thighs, roughly opening her and pulling her legs, draping one on the outside of either of his legs. She was obscenely spread open, pussy exposed to Azriel and Cassian's exploring eyes. Her breathing hitched as she watched their eyes glaze over at the sight of her.

Rhysand rubbed gently up and down her thighs.

"You know, Feyre," Rhys began, fingers grazing lightly up and down the inside of her thighs, making wetness pool where she was displayed across him. His hands lifted, tracing around the mounds of her breasts, making her pink nipples grow hard. He then began to rub his thumbs in circles across her nipples, rolling the small buds underneath his fingers and making her throb, desperate for him to push inside of her. "They may be able to make you come, but they'll never make you feel as good as I can."

"Fuck you," Azriel snarled. Feyre felt Rhys smile against her shoulder as he continued to play with her nipples. Cassian's smugness had faded, his eyes locked on the pink swollen skin of Feyre's cunt.

"You see, Feyre," Rhys continued on, pinching her nipples and making her gasp. "These two idiots don't know a thing about a woman's body. They don't know the way your stomach flips and tightens at the slightest touch, or the way feeling my breath against your ear makes you throb and ache to be filled."

Rhys' hands drifted slowly down her stomach with feather-light touches, feeling the way her skin tightened and twitched beneath his touch. Her skin was hyper-sensitive, aware of his every move and feeling three sets of eyes drinking in her every reaction.

"They don't know that sometimes, the environment is just as important as where they put their hands on your body. They don't know how much it turns you on just to splay yourself open in front of their desperate eyes, knowing they can't touch you or themselves and relieve any of the pressure building in their cocks. They don't know how much of a thrill it gives you to do something so filthy." His hand finally trailed between her legs, fingers tracing the outer lips of her pussy and causing her to writhe in his lap, pressing her ass back into the fabric of his pants, feeling the impossibly hard ridge of his cock under her.

"Rhys," she panted, half begging.

"How does it feel, Feyre? To have their eyes on you while I play with this pretty little pussy?" He asked, lips attaching to her neck as he continued to trace the outline of her, never allowing his finger to drift where she really needed it. The feel of his hot and wet tongue on her neck had her eyes rolling back in her head as she moaned, grinding against his hands in an attempt to get him to touch her the way she needed.

"So good," Feyre whined. Rhys hummed, middle finger swiping up the center of her folds, gliding through her slick and biting her neck with a growl as he felt just how ready she was to take him inside of her.

"Feyre," Cassian whined under his breath, swearing. Her eyes went to him, seeing the desperation on his face as he pulled roughly at whatever was binding him to his chair. His cock was so hard Feyre could see the outline of him through his pants.

"Love feeling this pretty little cunt weep for me," Rhys purred against her cheek with a sigh. Feyre panted as his fingers gathered her arousal and used it to swirl atop her clit, sending wild shocks of pleasure through the base of her spine.

"Ah! Oh god, Rhys, need you inside me," Feyre writhed against his hands, squeezing her eyes shut in pleasure. She felt Rhys pushing his cock harder against her ass. "Please fuck me."

"Yeah, baby?" Rhys urged her on. "You want my cock?"

She nodded fiercely. "Please, Rhys," she begged.

"Tell them how good I feel," Rhys commanded her. She moaned, lifting her knees slightly to open herself even more, feeling herself spreading open. Rhys kept massaging her clit with the perfect amount of pressure, her mouth falling open.

"You feel so good," Feyre breathed.

"Who, Feyre? Who feels good?" He smirked against her throat where he'd returned his mouth to kiss and suckle at her sensitive skin.

"You, Rhysand," Feyre answered.

"My good girl," Rhysand praised her, lowering a finger on his other hand to press against her entrance, slowly pushing it inside to the knuckle and panting at the tightness that gripped him. He pulled his finger out, slowly pushing back in. She groaned, bucking her hips. "They've got nothing on me when it comes to stamina, you know, Feyre? I can fuck for days."

Feyre whined, throwing her head back over his shoulder as she neared her climax. A thin sheen of sweat covered her skin as she felt her stomach tighten with need as Rhys began fucking her with two fingers, still using his other hand to massage her clit.

She came with a cry, stomach rising and falling quickly as she huffed deep breaths in and out. Rhys rode her through her high, slowing his motions and allowing her to regain her composure as he murmured praises against her skin and lovingly caressed Feyre’s skin.

"Rhys," Azriel snarled a warning, fury blazing in his eyes as he struggled against his bindings, desperate to fist his cock to the sight of Feyre in her post-orgasm bliss sweating and dripping wet in front of him.

"Azriel, I want you to watch me," Feyre panted, eyes hooded and glazed. Azriel's eyes rounded in shock and he looked like he might just come in his pants untouched at the sight of her. She was so beautiful, so simultaneously pure and filthy. She loved feeling him watching her. It made her feel powerful and wanted. So he would watch.

Rhys reached up, tucking her hair behind her ears and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Now, Feyre, I want you to get on the floor, on your knees, and face me," Rhys cooed, encouraging her as he affectionately rubbed your jaw. She hummed, obeying his instructions and kneeling between his legs, looking up at him expectantly.

"Pull out my cock, baby," Rhys instructed. Feyre's mouth dried slightly, but she listened, unbuckling Rhysand's belt and unzipping his pants, pulling them and his briefs down to free him from his clothes. The size of him was shocking in her hands. He was perfect. She knew he would feel like ecstasy inside of her.

Feyre held him in her hands with a tight grip, stroking him gently and watching him grow even harder under her touch. He lounged backward in his chair, placing his elbows on the back of it as he instructed her further.

"Suck me, baby," Rhys encouraged, eyes intently watching her every move. Her cheeks heated slightly, but she obeyed him without argument, sliding the head of his cock against her tongue and wetting him before sitting up more to take him deeper in her mouth. She heard desperate moans behind her, watching as she wrapped her lips around Rhys.

"Mmm, good girl, Feyre," Rhys purred as he watched her work. His eyes lifted to look at Azriel and Cassian as she lapped at him with her tongue, feeling the pulsating hardness of him sliding deeper into her throat with every pass.

"She feels so delicious," Rhys whined, eyes locked on Azriel's hungry ones. "Her sweet little mouth is so hot and wet and tight." He groaned as he bucked his hips up into Feyre's mouth, refusing to break eye contact with Azriel as he did.

"God, Feyre," Cassian complained, watching her naked form worshipping Rhys with her mouth. She sucked him harder and he hissed, tipping his head back slightly but still looking at the other two Illyrians behind him. It was so fucking intimate and erotic. Rhys wasn't mocking them. He was having an oddly intimate moment with them as well.

"Fuckkk," Rhys whimpered. "Suck me harder, baby."

"Cup his balls, Feyre," Azriel growled. Feyre's eyes widened, pulling off of Rhysand with a pop and twisting her head to look at Azriel, who looked at her with an intensity that threatened to send her into a deep spiral. "Moan for him. Show him just how good he feels in your throat."

Feyre looked back at Rhysand, who just offered her a lazy grin, gesturing back to his swollen and wet cock that demanded her attention. She looked back at Azriel again, who nodded, encouraging her. Biting her lip, she took a deep breath before obeying. She cupped Rhys' balls, massaging them in her palm and took him deeply into her throat, groaning at the invading press of him.

Rhys whined, fucking her mouth roughly as he breathed heavily through his mouth, torn between looking at Azriel and Cassian and watching himself disappear into her mouth. Feyre pulled up to swirl her tongue at his tip before pushing him even deeper, relaxing her throat to take almost all of him inside of her.

Behind her, Cassian swore and Azriel's chair squeaked on the floor with the effort it was taking him to hold back from her. Feyre continued pleasuring Rhysand with energy and effort. She hummed around him, sending vibrations flooding down the base of him.

Eventually, he became unable to control himself any longer and he gripped the sides of her head, holding her still and thrusting his hips up to meet her mouth, sheathing and fuckign himself deep inside as he groaned and sloppily spilled his cum down her throat. She felt the hot throbbing of his release and swallowed around him, gulping every drop he had to give.

"C'mere, baby," Rhys said, sounding exhausted. Feyre stood up, standing between Rhysand's legs. He smiled at her, kneading her hips with his hands as he admired her. He pressed a sweet and gentle kiss just below Feyre's navel, pulling back to turn her around so that her back faced him again. She felt him shuffling and turned to see he had undressed himself fully. She nearly drooled at the sight of him.

He hadn't been joking about his stamina, though. He was already hard again. She bit her lip at the massive sight of him, shocked she'd been able to work him as deeply into her throat as she had.

"Hope they stretched you out well enough for me before they brought you home," Rhys said, amused, but at Feyre's expense. She swallowed roughly. He gripped one of her hips, guiding her to slowly lower herself over the tip of his cock. He stopped her, making her hover there as he ran the head of his cock through her folds, watching the way her wetness spread across him. She was practically dripping.

"Are you sore?" He asked, still running the head of himself up and down her slit slowly, making her squirm desperately under his teasing. But she didn't want him to be gentle because she was sore.

"No," she admitted.

Rhysand chuckled darkly. The noise of it was taunting.

"Good. You will be after me," he growled.

"Look at Azriel while I fill you," he murmured into Feyre's ear. She shivered at the filth of it all. She'd never experienced anything like this in her whole life. Rhys began to tug her back slowly, notching himself at her entrance and slowly beginning to push himself inside. She gasped, locking eyes with Azriel.

His lips parted as he watched her eyebrows scrunch in pleasure, deep moan reverberating in her chest as Rhys pushed continually deeper into her. The size of him was intoxicating. She wanted Rhysand's cock inside of her for the rest of her life.

"Tell them that," he scolded, and she froze, realizing she'd forgotten how easily Rhys could know exactly what she was thinking. It was one of the ways he'd learned the female body so intimately.

"I could take his cock every day," she whimpered, still looking at Azriel. Cassian swore, eyes locked in on where Rhysand impaled her from underneath. He looked positively mesmerized.

"Yeah?" Az encouraged. She realized what the Illyrians were doing. They were competing, for sure. But there was more to it than that. They were amping each other up, playing games with each other.

If they wanted to play, she wanted to fucking win.

"He's so deep inside me," she moaned to Azriel. Her eyes flicked to Cassian, making sure she had his full attention before continuing. She bottomed out, ass flush with Rhysand's hips as he finally fully seated himself inside of her with a hiss. "I'm so full."

"You take him so well, mouse," Cassian cooed. She preended under his stare, leaning her head back against Rhysand's shoulder as she adjusted to the size of him. Rhys snapped, conjuring a small item in the shape of a bullet, wrapped in silicone. Before Feyre could register what was happening, he'd pressed the vibrator against her clit at full power.

She jerked back with a cry, writhing in his lap under the intense pressure of beind so full and having her clit so intensely stimulated. She keened, helpless pants rushing in and out of her chest, making her breasts rise and fall with urgency.

"I want you to show them how good I make you feel, Feyre," Rhys soothed. "I want to see you cry, see those pretty tears sliding down your cheeks as you beg, not knowing if you're begging me to stop or to give you more."

"Rhys," Feyre complained, pulsating around his cock as he continued to hold the vibrator directly against her clit. "Fuck."

"Look at me, Feyre," Cassian commanded. Feyre obeyed, locking in his gaze as she felt her stomach tightening, nearing her climax at an alarming rate. "You look so pretty, baby. Love watching your cheeks flush when you come."

She moaned, throat raw with the sound as she clenched the life out of Rhysand's cock, making him groan in return. She came down off her climax with the vibrator still pressed against her clit, which had her screeching and twitching in his lap, squeezing her eyes shut. Tears leaked down her cheeks, the pleasure entirely overwhelming. She couldn't focus on anything else apart from the sensations slamming through her body.

"You can do it, bunny. You can take it," Azriel encouraged as she wept, barrelling toward another release. Her breathing hitched, cutting off as she moaned again, feeling like she might jump out of her own skin.

"Doing so good," Rhys murmured in her ear. "My good girl."

She came again, the proof of her arousal drenching Rhysand's cock and leaking into his lap as she cried, body convulsing and taking its own liberties to manage her pleasure. She felt the throbbing of Rhy's heavy cock in her stomach, desperate to take her, but being patient with his torturous assurance of her pleasure.

Rhys finally pulled the toy away, giving Feyre a moment to breathe as she allowed herself to return to her body and regain her composure. She pulsed around his cock still, remnants and aftershocks of her orgasms still wracking her body uncontrollably.

"Breathe, Feyre," Rhys coaxed, rubbing his hands gently up and down her thighs. "Just one more for me, baby." Her eyes widened and threatened to pop out of her head. One more?

"My strong girl can handle it, can't you, bunny?" Azriel purred from his chair, cock painfully hard and eyes fierce.

When he looked at her that way, she felt the need to do anything he wanted. She wanted to please him, wanted to please them all. And if he said she could do it, maybe she could.

With no warning, the vibrator was back on her clit and she howled, gyrating atop Rhysand's lap as she felt the most intense pleasure she'd ever experienced swirling in her stomach. She felt those golden strings tying her to Rhysand snap into place, connecting with what she felt for the other two, and it threatened to consume her. Nothing could have prepared her for how good they would all feel.

"Come around my cock, pretty baby," Rhys begged, adding pressure to her clit as she once again tightened and milked his cock with her orgasm, her moans a constant noise in the tense, sex-soaked air of their shared bedroom.

When she finished coming, Rhysand pressed a kiss to her temple and pulled her up and off his soaked cock, causing her to cry out at the loss of him. He landed a sharp smack to her ass, watching as a red handprint formed there with an evil smirk.

"Go get on the bed for me," he instructed. "On your hands and knees, face Cassian and Azriel." She obeyed, scampering up onto their insanely massive bed, placing herself in the perfect position to see the other two Illyrians.

Rhysand opened the small cabinet, grabbing a water bottle and guzzling it deeply. He walked to Feyre where she was on all fours, tipping the lid to her mouth and swatting her hands away when she tried to hold the bottle. He poured the water into her mouth, watching her throat work as she swallowed. When she was done, he sat the bottle on the nightstand and crawled onto the bed, positioning himself behind her.

"Gods, I've been dying to fuck this cunt," he snarled. He positioned himself, slamming to the hilt without preparing her. She gasped, the feeling of him deepened by their position. It was glorious. He hit her cervix in the perfect way, the head of his cock dragging against the spongy flesh of her G-spot with every pump in and out of her.

He gripped her hips roughly, like he wanted to see his bruises marking her skin, covering the ones Azriel and Cassian had left behind that morning in an attempt to infuriate their High Lord.

"Harder," she begged him.

He growled, slamming harder inside of her, knocking the air from her lungs.

"If I would have known you were gonna take it like a good little bitch, I would have bought you a collar," he snarled. The noises from him slamming into her sopping cunt filled the air, making Feyre's stomach flip. "You want that, Feyre? You're squeezing my cock like you want that. You like being our little fucktoy, don't you? Pretty little cumslut who just wants to be owned and worshipped."

"I think she'd look cute with a collar around that delicate little neck," Cassian agreed from where he sat still bound. "Maybe even get her a little bell."

Feyre moaned, hating how much she loved when they degraded her.

"What do you say, huh, Feyre? Wanna be our little bitch?" Rhys purred as he slammed into her from behind, occasionally stopping to land a sharp smack to her ass. It felt so good she still had tears dousing her cheeks. She nodded, sniffling.

"Please," she begged.

"How does he feel, bunny?" Azriel asked.

"Like a god," Feyre panted.

"You look so pretty taking him," Azriel praised. She moaned. "Does his cock fill you up? Make you feel like he's rearranging you to fit him?"

"Y-Yes," Feyre whined.

"Make him come, then. Hug his cock and drain him dry," Azriel goaded. She clenched as if on command, tightening around Rhysand's pistoning cock.

"Fucking hell, Feyre," Rhys yelled. His pace grew sloppy as he pumped a few more times before stilling inside of her, pushing himself as deeply as possible as he filled her with his cum, only pulling out after every drop had spurted hot and deep inside her cunt.

He collapsed backwards, leaning against the pillows and headboard, dragging Feyre backwards to lean back on his chest between his wide legs. She sighed into the comforting warmth and smell of him.

His hands gently parted her, baring her cunt once again to the air.

"Looks like we made quite a mess of you, Feyre," Rhys hummed. "Want Azriel and Cassian to clean you up?"

Biting her lip, she nodded. Rhysand snapped, releasing Azriel and Cass from their bindings. They rose, prowling closer to her. Cassian crawled up the side of the bed, pressing his lips to hers and sliding his tongue into her mouth.

Azriel positioned himself between her legs, gripping her thighs posessively. His tongue lapped at her center and she groaned into Cassian's mouth. The filthiness of Azriel licking up her arousal mixed with Rhysand's cum threatened to make her come again, but she was so spent she thought one more might really kill her.

His warm tongue was gentle, passing wide strokes as he ate her out like a man starved. His tongue delved inside of her warm heat, lapping and devouring. Once he was satisfied, he pulled back and grinned at her, her wetness covering his chin. Cassian pulled back too.

"I think you wore her out, Rhys," Cassian joked.

"C-Can we take another bath and cuddle?" Feyre asked, voice small. They all grinned sincerely. Rhys banded his arms around her in a firm hug, pressing her tighter to his chest.

"Of course we can, Feyre Darling. We can do anything you want to," Rhys said.

She closed her eyes, seeping up his warmth. They cared for her thoroughly, carrying her to the bathroom and washing her hair as she closed her eyes. They were so gentle with her, but knew just when to be rough and unforgiving. Feyre couldn't understand how she'd become so lucky.

"Can't wait for you to take all of us at once, soon, mouse," Cassian said, amused. Her eyes shot open and she whipped her head to him, expression terrified. He whooped his laughter, splashing her with bubbly water.

"Let her rest for now, Cass," Azriel grinned that sadistic grin of his. "She'll need her strength for what we have planned for her."

Chapter Text

Feyre’s hand lifted to run her fingers across the velvet fabric of the black spaghetti strap dress hanging in the closet. There were no doubts in her mind that it was Rhysand who had meticulously stocked her closet. He’d chosen such intricate and beautiful designs. Feyre smiled to herself as she thought about the fact that Rhys hadn’t neglected her comfort either. When she’d been with Tamlin, he’d dressed her up like a porcelain doll to parade and groom. Rhysand still bought her plenty of sweatpants and baggy t-shirts, too. He didn’t force her into skimpy pajamas every night or demand she look proper. Sure, he had bought her things he found beautiful, but he had always kept Feyre at the forefront of his mind. He was just thoughtful like that.

The boys were out tonight. Rhysand had them up in Illyria working over some plans they’d formulated for reforming their childhood home into something they could be proud of. So reluctantly, they’d left Feyre at home. She needed the time to herself, too, so she wasn’t too upset.

So, like any woman left home alone, she wore a baggy shirt with underwear and no pants, wine glass in hand as she danced to herself in the closet, humming and taking in the beautiful clothes being displayed in their department store size closet.

And yeah. Maybe she had the urge to play dress up. Whatever.

She pushed the black dress aside to view the low-cut robin’s egg blue top behind it with a pleased hum. Rhysand had known her color palette, too. He didn’t pick any colors that washed Feyre’s pale skin out, making her look like a ghost. She bit her lip, once again feeling the glowing warmth settling in her chest at the thought of her mate, her Bonded.

Feyre gasped, spit choking her as a firm hand covered her mouth, yanking her back into a rock-hard chest, not quite tall enough to be her bat boys. The familiar scent washed over her, and all the blood drained from her face.

“Tamlin?” She tried to say against the hand, but her voice was muffled nearly into extinction. He shushed her. The room began to spin slightly as Feyre’s brows furrowed. There were three chandeliers chasing one another in circles. She couldn’t quite focus, couldn’t quite… remember? Wait…

Feyre’s eyes drifted closed, and she fell down into that dark abyss, the shadows clinging to her and holding her down as it dragged her deeper into its clutches. Then there was nothing.

—--------------------------------------------

Feyre groaned, opening her eyes and rubbing the sleep from them. What a weird ass dream. She sighed, rolling over into her pillow and closing her eyes once more. It had to be so early. She could probably sneak in a few more hours of sleep before her Bonded came home.

But it was the smell- and then the texture- of the pillow that sent her scrambling from the bed, the sheets tangling in her legs and sending her sprawling onto the cold hardwood. The cold, nauseatingly familiar hardwood.

The light scent of the floral abundance of the Spring Court invaded her senses. Panic flooded her, her chest heaving as she blinked wildly. If she blinked hard enough maybe she’d wake up for real this time.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she jumped out of her skin as the voice behind her rumbled. Spinning, she saw a shirtless Tamlin in the decorative armchair in the corner of her room, smiling softly as his blonde locks hung loose around his face.

He was only wearing the linen sleep pants he always wore to bed. A chill crawled across the surface of her skin as she realized she was still only wearing a shirt and her underwear. Had he been sleeping next to her?

Had he kidnapped her?

What the actual hell?

“I’m so happy you’re home, Feyre,” he beamed. “I’ve missed you so terribly. I’m sorry it took me so long to get to you. As I’m sure you’re now well aware, the Night Court is nearly impenetrable. I had to drain most of my magic to get to you, and only succeeded because I was able to do so before Rhysand noticed.” He stood, walking to her, but she scrambled backwards, limbs flailing until her back hit the wall.

Tamlin sighed, his eyes sad.

“Please tell me he didn’t hurt you,” he said, voice raw with emotion.

The realization of it all hit Feyre like a ton of bricks to the chest. She guffawed, slapping a hand over her mouth in an attempt to keep her laughter choked down. Wide eyed, she peered up at Tamlin, who she’d once felt so much for, but now only felt second-hand embarrassment. She knew it made her a terrible person. But that changed nothing.

“Tamlin,” she said, failing miserably to keep her wild amusement from her voice. “No- Tamlin, oh god.” Feyre started laughing, burying her face in her hands, before dragging them harshly down her face as her jaw hung slack, cheeks straining from the emotion she was desperately fighting.

“Feyre-”

“Pfft, oh my GOD. Tamlin.” She looked at him in utter disbelief. His brows knitted together and any hint of the previous joy animating his features drained. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

“Didn’t what, Feyre? I brought you home I figured you’d be happy, I-”

“Tamlin,” Feyre started again, but shook her head and laughed once more. “Please tell me you didn’t break into Rhysand’s house and kidnap his mate.” The lack of emotion on Tamlin’s face was quickly replaced with a simmering rage.

“You are no such-”

“Please be so serious right now,” Feyre hiccupped through a laugh. “Please explain how you expect this to end well for you.” Tamlin’s lip curled up in a snarl as he looked down his nose at her.

“I should have known better than to fall for a fickle human like you,” Tamlin snorted, shaking his head as he balled his fists at his side, laughing a humorless laugh of disbelief.

“I beg your pardon?” Feyre squealed, jaw still hanging loose as she looked at him.

“Are you telling me you fell for his bullshit? This meant nothing to you? The month I spent breaking down wards you were servicing him like some kind of loyal bitch dog, rolling over on command?” Tamlin’s angry words echoed through their once-shared room.

Tamlin scoffed, pacing and running a hand roughly through his hair. He shook his head again, laughing to himself. He spun on her, ready to spew more of his meltdown. He looked like a toddler who’d just lost his favorite toy.

“I mean, fuck, if Rhys and I were going to scrabble over a female, it could have at least been one worth the hassle. He could have at least chosen a better cunt to war over, for fuck’s sake-” Tamlin’s words were cut off as a deafening clap of thunder shook the house down to its foundation.

All light was sucked from the room, throwing them into total, roiling darkness. Feyre coughed, sputtering as she frantically felt around her to assure herself she was even still alive. The room was ice cold, void of anything but a boiling, destructive rage.

But not Feyre’s rage, as prevalent as it may be.

The darkness parted as she felt hands caress the sides of her face with a softness that threatened to make tears well in her eyes. She closed her eyes, leaning into the hands and using her own to hold them to her cheeks.

“Feyre darling,” Rhys whispered against her lips, kissing her slowly before he pulled away. She could see him now, as if he’d created a pocket of darkness just for the two of them. “Are you okay, baby?”

She nodded, sniffing with a laugh. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before standing and absentmindedly flicking his hand. That small movement sent the darkness fleeing, returning the room to normal. Feyre bit her lip to hide the smile that threatened to cover her face when she saw Tamlin had been cowering in the corner.

Rhysand cleared his throat, flicking a bit of lint from his shoulders and inspecting his nails. “So, you see, Tamlin,” he began, voice as nonchalant as if they were old friends gathered for a reunion. “It’s one thing to steal what’s mine. It’s entirely another to play the part of an insolent child and pretend you haven’t been crying yourself to sleep over that very cunt you claim wasn’t worth the hassle.”

Feyre gasped and Rhysand smirked at her over his shoulder.

“I’d raze all of Prythian just for a moment of your time, my love,” he said, the sincerity of it glimmering in those starry violet eyes. Feyre’s stomach warmed under his gaze, which only caused Rhys to flick up one eyebrow in intrigue.

He turned back to Tamlin.

“You have been in a 500-year one-sided dick-slinging contest with me and have yet to realize yours isn’t even big enough to even validate a competition. The second your pretty little Feyre got a taste of me, she just couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t get enough of my brothers either, could you, baby?” He looked at her again and winked, causing Feyre to bite her lip.

A look of disgust filled Tamlin’s face as he sneered at Feyre. Rhysand stepped into his eyeline, recapturing his attention. I felt Rhysand’s purely male amusement across out bond as he formulated his plan.

“If a show was what you wanted, you only needed to ask, Tam,” Rhysand grinned. “C’mere, Feyre.” She rose to her feet, walking to his side. He slung an arm over her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her temple before leaning forward and grabbing a fistful of Tamlin’s blonde hair without a hint of gentleness.

Before Feyre could even gasp, Rhys winnowed them both.

—-----------------------------

They landed in the throne room of the Night Court. Rhysand still held Tamlin by his scalp as he roughly slung him face-first onto the concrete. Tamlin wheezed, clambering to his feet, foolishly not realizing he currently stood between a very fucking furious Azriel and Cassian.

A thrill raced up Feyre’s spine at the sight of them. Cassian and Azriel stilled slightly as Rhysand quickly shared the past ten minutes with them, the darkness crossing Azriel’s features all-consuming and full of a quiet, devouring rage. Feyre’s mouth dried out.

“Bitch dog, huh?” Cassian chuckled, the sound entirely humorless. “We’ll see if you still feel the same when I castrate- oh shit, I mean neuter- you. Sorry, I do forget you’re half mutt beast.”

Tamlin heaved, claws springing free of his hands as he threatened to shift into that very beast form. He swiped at Azriel’s chest, but Az just lazily stepped out of his way as his eyes found Feyre’s.

“Are you okay?” He asked, giving her a pointed look to let her know Tamlin wouldn’t make it out of this alive if he’d misplaced a single hair on her head. She nodded and his jaw flexed, focusing his attention back on Tamlin. The sapphire siphons on his chest flickered with his raw power as he assessed the situation.

“She’s really worth this to you?” Tamlin spit at Cassian’s feet. “All for an utterly average human pussy you’ve clearly already used up?”

A violent choking sound echoed off the throne room’s marble as Azriel’s hand moved quicker than Feyre’s eyes could follow, gripping Tamlin’s throat with bruising force as he slammed his heavy boot into the front of Tamlin’s left knee. Tamlin let out a groan of agony as his knee snapped out of place in an entirely unnatural angle. Rhys chuckled.

“You forget he’s not very friendly, Tamlin,” Rhysand joked, squeezing Feyre’s shoulder as he pulled her tighter into his side. He looked like he was having the time of his life watching his brother’s brutalize his fellow High Lord.

“You bastards will pay for this shit,” Tamlin snarled before another hulking boot slammed into the side of his head, this time belonging to Cassian.

“Whoops,” Cassian rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I probably should have warned you he doesn’t like that word,” Rhysand added with a grin.

“Rhysand, call off your savages or they both die,” Tamlin warned.

Rhys pretended to think on this before nodding.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m worried,” he said, looking up at the ceiling in boredom.

“Feyre, I love you,” Tamlin said, sounding exasperated.

Feyre snorted, smacking a hand over her mouth. Rhysand grinned down at her, eyes twinkling with something much stronger than adoration.

“Yeah, you’ve been really clear about that,” Feyre rolled her eyes. Pride bloomed in Rhysand’s chest as he watched his mate hold her own. He knew she could handle herself. He just also really enjoyed hurting the people who hurt her. Like, really enjoyed it.

Azriel snarled, kicking Tamlin in the gut and knocking the wind from his lungs.

“Now, now, Azriel. We promised him a show. At least let him see what he never could have had before you kill him,” Rhysand announced.

Azriel’s chest heaved. He ripped truth-teller from its hilt at his side and stabbed it just under Tamlin’s rib cage on the left side of his body, holding it there long enough to watch the pain register in Tamlin’s eyes as he cried out. They gave him no recovery time as the two shackled him to the wall with iron grips Feyre had never even known were there.

Tamlin hung by his wrists, only the balls of his feet touching the floor as blood pured down his still-bare torso, drenching the blue linen of his sleep pants. He yanked wildly on the shackles, but they wouldn’t give.

Rhysand snorted.

“Oh, did I forget to tell you those are magic-proof? My bad.” Cassian chuckled.

Azriel made it to Feyre in two steps before he buried his sticky hands in the hair at the sides of her face, crushing his mouth to hers with a groan. Feyre’s stomach flipped when she realized Azriel’s hands were coated in Tamlin’s blood as he held her face to his.

He bent, throwing her over his shoulder and carried her the two steps up to Rhysand’s throne where Rhys was now perched. Sitting her feet to the ground, Azriel lowered her to sit in Rhysand’s lap on the throne, prowling around to stand at Rhys’ side, shadows swirling at his shoulders and feet as if he was currently struggling to hold himself back.

Feyre scooted her ass backwards, rubbing herself into Rhysand’s lap. He hummed his approval, hands gently caressing her hips. His hand wandered slowly to her stomach, dragging the tips of his fingers lightly above her underwear, the t-shirt riding up to her hips.

Feyre whined quietly, Rhysand dipping one finger barely underneath the band of Feyre’s underwear, but just as quickly removing it, teasing her and making her desperate to feel him against her. Rhysand chuckled, kissing the side of Feyre’s neck, tongue lapping slowly at the sensitive skin over her jugular.

Feyre moaned.

“What is it, my sweet Feyre? What is it you want?” Rhysand purred against her neck.

“You,” she panted. “I want to feel you inside me.”

Tamlin yanked at the chains holding his arms above his head angrily, growling. Feyre’s eyes flicked up to meet his. He looked at her like she was beneath him, like she was less. The secret disdain for her independence leaking to the surface just like she’d always suspected he thought of her.

It made her fucking angry. It made her angry that Tamlin could have an entire festival to celebrate his ability to fuck, taking whoever he pleased for his own, but Feyre’s pleasure made him disgusted. He’d never focused on her when they were in bed. He’d framed sex as something Feyre was simply meant to endure for his happiness and not her own. He wanted Feyre pure and innocent. He wanted the same girl who clung to the first semblance of kindness she’d ever known, abandoning her own wants and needs in favor of pleasing him.

She wasn’t that person anymore. She knew what she liked, what felt good. She knew she had no reason to feel guilty for enjoying sex. So she wouldn’t allow him to shame her or degrade her. No, she’d show him just how little he’d ever pleasured her, how unimpressive their sex had always been.

“I want you three to show him just how bad he was in bed and just how good you all know how to make me feel,” Feyre spoke up, watching the shock register in Tamlin’s eyes at her boldness. Cassian’s grin spread wide, the smile of a sadist. It made Feyre shiver.

“Want to play a game, bunny?” Azriel purred from her side. She bit her lip and nodded up at him.

“What game?” She asked him, her stomach heating under the intense stare. He always looked at her like she was something to worship. Like he would forfeit the world to keep her looking at him.

“I want you to lay back on the table, spread open for me. I want to blindfold you and tie you. I want to draw those pretty little noises out of you just by the way we touch you. Then I want you to guess which one of us is fucking you by the way we feel inside you,” Azriel said, eyes simmering with lust. Feyre’s stomach flipped at his words.

“What do I get if I win?” She flicked up one eyebrow at him.

“What do you want?”

She hummed, thinking about it. There were so many things she wanted, so much she could ask for. But deep down, she knew what she wanted the most. What she’d been too afraid to ask for, not knowing what response she would get. She felt embarrassed even asking for it, but decided to be brave.

“I want you to hunt me,” she said, chewing the inside of her cheeks.

Azriel’s eyes widened and then darkened as he took in the meaning of her words. The darkness that simmered in his eyes made her mouth dry. That look. That’s the look she wanted as he became a predator stalking his prey.

“Deal,” Azriel said. Tamlin growled, yanking even harder on his restraints but making absolutely no progress in removing them. Blood still leaked down his torso from where Azriel had stabbed him.

“I won’t stand here and watch you demon half-breeds mount that filthy little bitch. Rhysand, remove these shackles now or you’re openly declaring war on another Court,” Tamlin snarled, the metal clanking echoing through the throne room as he fought ruthlessly against unbreakable bonds.

Azriel was a blur of anger as he stormed down the stairs and over to Tamlin. He threw his fist with alarming power directly into Tamlin’s nose, a sickening crack filling the air as Tamlin groaned in pain.

“Say something else about her,” Azriel’s voice was like cold death as he glowered down at Tamlin, who was a few inches shorter than him. His wings were tucked in tight and his shoulders were drawn and tense. Blood leaked from Tamlin’s nostrils and over his mouth as he coughed and sputtered, trying to spit the blood from his mouth and breathe at the same time. “Say one more goddamn nasty word about my girl and I’ll fucking gut you.”

Feyre’s stomach heated at Azriel’s protectiveness over her. She hated to admit that it was so hot that he was so willing to disfigure someone just for saying a crass word about her. It felt nice to be cared for, protected.

Tamlin opened his mouth to speak again, but Azriel hauled back his fist and slammed it into Tamlin’s mouth, busting his lip against his teeth. “One more, fucker. Say one fucking more, I dare you.” Tamlin, to Feyre’s shock, shut up. Azriel’s jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth in an effort not to just gut the bastard anyway.

Rhysand stood, picking Feyre up into his arm as he walked to the heavy mahogany table within the throne room where they typically held inner circle discussions of political matters within the Court. He sat her on the edge, the cold wood against her ass making her gasp. Rhysand pulled the t-shirt over Feyre’s head, her nipples pebbling against the cold air. He groaned softly, thumb tracing across a nipple as he admired her.

Wetness pooled between her legs at the thought of what was next. She ached for it, needing to feel all of them praising and worshipping her body while Tamlin was forced to watch, knowing he’d never made her feel even half as good.

Rhys pushed Feyre’s shoulders, laying her back against the cold wood. He snapped his fingers, conjuring silk fabric ties that he used to tie each of her wrists to the tops of the heavy wooden chairs tucked into the table. Feyre’s arms were spread wide, keeping her from being able to take control of the situation.

Then Rhys used the final slit of fabric to tie gently over her eyes, pressing a soft kiss to her mouth before he pulled away and left her exposed on the table. Feyre’s breathing hitched, body a livewire of anticipation.

She remained untouched so long that she started to get impatient. She whined, pulling at the ties binding her wrists. She needed them to touch her, to fuck her, to do whatever they wanted to her. She was dying for it.

“Fuck, look at you…” one of them murmured under their breath. Feyre’s lips parted as she tried to track their movements around her using only her hearing.

“I want to eat you out so fucking bad,” a different voice said, this time by her legs. She whimpered.

“Please,” she whispered.

Hands found the sides of her underwear, pulling them down her legs and away from her body. She wiggled slightly, so turned on by even the slightest brush of their fingers against her skin.

“Spread your legs for me,” said a voice by her head. She noticed they were talking quietly, she supposed to hide the differences in their voices. She obeyed, placing her feet on the table as she spread her knees apart. “Spread them wider,” the voice commanded. Arousal dripped from her pussy at the gravelly desperation of the speaker.

“So fucking pretty,” said another.

“You’re so wet, baby,” a third person purred. “Dripping for my cock. Makes me want to slam myself inside you before we even warm you up.”

“I can take it,” Feyre whined. One of her bat boys swore under their breath, riled up by the neediness of her voice.

“Oh I know you can, baby,” they purred. “Beg and I’ll think about it.”

Feyre groaned. “Please,” she whimpered. “Please, please, please.”

“How about we put that pretty mouth of yours to good use, huh?” The voice was coy. Feyre nodded, aching for any physical contact. “Open up for me, Feyre.”

Feyre opened her mouth, and a broad hand gripped her jaw, turning her face to the side. The thumb of their hand rubbed her jaw affectionately as she felt them place the head of their cock at her lips. She lapped her tongue around the tip, earning a shuddered moan of approval. They pushed deeper into her mouth, feeling as she ran her tongue against the underside.

Hands pushed Feyre’s legs even wider apart. A tongue lapped at her center, making her groan around the cock in her mouth. The tongue pushed inside of her, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her core and making her pussy throb around their tongue.

A mouth closed over her nipple, swirling and licking it with sensual slowness. Feyre ground her pussy into her Bonded’s mouth, pushing her breast further into the mouth of the other while swallowing the third’s cock.

“Whose cock is fucking your throat, Feyre?” They pulled out of her mouth to wait for her answer. She swallowed, panting.

“I-...” Feyre began, thinking to herself. “I-... I think it’s Cass.” Cassian swore under his breath, pushing his cock back into her mouth with a guttural groan. Feyre thanked herself for getting it right because they doubled down on their efforts.

Feyre’s clit was sucked into the mouth of the one knelt between her legs. She recognized the flicking of the tongue, the groan of the mouth against her. She’d know it anywhere. She pulled her mouth from Cassian.

“And Azriel has his tongue in my pussy,” Feyre gasped as he sucked harder on her clit. “Rhys, kiss me please.” Rhysand’s mouth left her nipple and found hers, tongue plunging sensually into her mouth to caress her own. She moaned into his mouth, obsessed with the way he tasted.

At once, they all pulled back from her. She cried out in protest, but it did no good. She heard the shuffling movements of the men changing places, rotating to test just how well she’d learned their bodies from the few times they’d fucked.

Feyre felt the head of a cock notch at her entrance, slowly pressing into her. She gasped at the glorious stretch, feeling herself pulse and clench around them as they slowly fucked themselves deeper and deeper. Two mouths descended on either nipple and Feyre screeched at the overstimulation and overwhelming pleasure she felt. She was about to come around her Bonded’s cock already, and he wasn’t even fully pressed inside of her.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” her Bonded whimpered. “So fucking tight.” They fucked her harder and deeper, hitting that orgasmic spot deep inside of her that had her jaw slackening and eyes squeezing shut underneath her blindfold.

“Rhys,” she panted, recognizing the skilled maneuvering of his cock as he fucked her. His thumb found her clit as he fucked her harder, making her clench around him even tighter. He swore as she neared her climax, the feeling of Cassian and Azriel’s mouth suckling at her nipples making her scream.

“Come for me, baby,” Rhys purred. “Hug my cock. Let him hear just how good I feel.” Feyre nearly involuntarily obliged as she came hard around Rhysand’s cock, throbbing so intensely around him that he struggled to continue fucking her. Her pussy held him deep within her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, holy fuck Feyre,” Rhys panted wildly, whimpering desperately as he continued rubbing her clit, prolonging her orgasm and subsequently milking himself inside of her. “You’re gonna make me come already, holy fuck.”

Either Cassian or Azriel bit down on her nipple, causing her to cry out feverishly. Rhys groaned loudly, spilling inside of her as he leaned forward over her body, breathing heavy and winded as her pussy drained his cock, the warmth of his cum filling her so deeply.

Pressing a kiss to her stomach, he pulled out and she released a sound of protest as she now sat empty. But it didn’t last long as she felt another one of her Bonded position himself to fuck her next.

The stretching of her cunt as he pressed himself inside of her immediately let her know who exactly was fucking her. She moaned Cassian’s name and he let out a feral noise, using his massive hands to press down on her lower stomach as he fucked her. It made him feel like he was impossibly deeper inside of her, and she began babbling her pleasure, no longer making sense as she took what he gave her.

“Taste how good you did for me,” Rhysand said by her head. “Let him watch you suck your arousal off of me like my good little girl. Show him how much you love being my pretty little pet.” Feyre opened her mouth, dragging her tongue along the shaft of Rhys’ cock as she tasted the unique flavor of herself coating him, a reminder of how good he’d just made her feel.

Feyre heard Tamlin again frustratedly yanking against his cuffs, but couldn’t bring herself to care at all. She cleaned Rhysand off, and he pulled away from her. His fingers knitted into her hair, stretching and massaging her scalp as Cassian continued to fuck her. Cass removed his hands from her lower stomach as she felt the wet warmth of Azriel’s mouth encircle her clit.

She yelped, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes as she felt Cassian deep in her stomach as Azriel flicked his tongue against the bud of her clit and Rhysand rubbed her head. In seconds, she was squeezing Cassian’s cock, sobbing as she came around him.

His pace became sloppy as he slid in and out of her, the glide of him incomparable. He pushed as deep as he could, nearly knocking the breath out of her as he pumped his seed against her cervix. He remained inside her a moment more before he pulled out, his cum mixing with Rhysand’s between her legs.

The blindfold was pulled from her eyes as she blinked wildly, the room slowly unblurring and coming back into focus. Rhysand looked down at her adoringly as he continued to massage her head.

“Think you can still take me, bunny?” Azriel murmured, rubbing a hand soothingly across her stomach. She nodded, breathless. She didn’t know how, but she would do it. She would do anything to keep them looking at her like this, drunk with lust and pleasure.

“Such a good girl,” Rhys smiled.

“Doing so good for us, sweetheart,” Cassian agreed, small beads of sweat coating his forehead as he stood by her side, watching.

“You’re all fucking disgusting,” Tamlin snarled. No one even bothered to look in his direction, but Cassian moved to the other side of the table to make sure Tamlin still had a clear view of the mess they’d made of Feyre.

Azriel gripped Feyre’s hips, kneading them gently as he rubbed his cock through the lips of her cunt, lubricating himself and rubbing the head of himself against Feyre’s swollen and overly sensitive clit. Her legs twitched beneath him, and she panted, making eye contact with him as he finally impaled her.

“Taking me so fucking well,” Azriel sighed, embracing the familiar warmth of her being wrapped around him. “Still so fucking tight, even after taking so much cock.”

Azriel pumped in and out of her abused cunt, the lubrication of Cassian and Rhysand’s cum coating him and making the slide of him against her inner walls otherworldly. He worked her gently, being mindful of her soreness.

He found a wonderful rhythm, soon enough making her tighten around him and he threw his head back, mouth falling open as he felt her throbbing for him, melting for him. She watched the way his beautiful features screwed up with pleasure.

“Look at Tamlin, Feyre,” Rhysand murmured. “Let him see just how much you’re enjoying this.” Feyre did as he said, looking at a numb-faced Tamlin. His blonde hair was tangled and matted, face smeared with his own blood. The same blood that also leaked from his torso.

“He feels so good,” Feyre moaned as she maintained that eye contact. “He’s so much deeper inside me than you ever could get.” Tamlin’s lip curled into a snarl at her words.

“You’re a dirty slut, Feyre,” Tamlin growled at her. “Letting Rhysand fuck you was one thing, but you’ll even fuck his dogs, too. You really will take anything anyone is half willing to give you won’t you?”

Feyre rolled her eyes, focusing her attention back on Azriel, who pulsated inside her as he watched the way she took him, feeling her cunt clamping down on him as she reveled in the filthy wonderfulness of what they were doing.

Feyre realized she only cared what her Bonded thought of her. Everyone else had become background noise. She felt that golden string of light glow deep within her heart, connecting her to each of them.

They must have felt the emotional tug of her because they all caressed and worshipped her, whispering praises and making sure she felt as beautiful and loved as she was, and Tamlin’s words and opinions lost all meanings to her.

Azriel came inside her, the beautiful noises spilling from his lips were the most intoxicating sound Feyre had ever heard. When he pulled out of her, he marveled at the absolute mess the three had made of her.

Rhysand gently undid her binds, rubbing her wrists softly to make sure they hadn’t hurt her. Of course, they hadn’t. He picked up her shirt, pulling it back over her head and helping her thread her arms back through before all three of them redressed themselves.

Azriel was dressed in a flash, back in front of Tamlin’s nearly lifeless form. He slowly unsheathed truth-teller, looking Tamlin in his blazing green eyes as he drove it into the side of Tamlin’s stomach, dragging it roughly across to the other side. Tamlin choked on his own blood, gagging and coughing.

Tamlin’s eyes glazed as Azriel leaned in close enough that their noses were almost touching. “I warned you that one more word and I’d gut you. I’m a man of my word,” he said through gritted teeth.

Rhysand picked Feyre up, holding her close to his body as he walked her back to their room. Feyre felt like she should be ashamed for feeling nothing over Tamlin’s death, but she just felt numb to it.

Rhysand carried her into their large shower, slowly helping her wash. He scrubbed her body with a sud-covered loofah, pampering her and making sure she was entirely clean before he started cleaning himself.

Azriel and Cassian joined them minutes after, washing the residual blood from their skin and making themselves smell like they normally did. Feyre breathed in deeply as she closed her eyes, realizing how content she was to just be with them forever. It had happened so quickly and without any warning, but she never wanted to be separated from them ever again.

Cassian scooped Feyre into his arms once they were done, using a fluffy white towel to dry her skin before sitting her on the countertop, wrapping the warm towel around her shoulders. He pulled out a jaw of moisturizer, taking some into his palm and rubbing it along her legs, massaging and rubbing the muscles as he went. Rhysand joined, rubbing the lotion along her arms as Azriel worked on her other leg.

Once she was nearly asleep under their touch, they carried her to bed and whispered their sweet nothings as they all drifted off, comfortable knowing that nothing and no one would separate them ever again.

Chapter Text

Feyre cursed under her breath, for the millionth time cursing Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand for slinking off to have their little boy’s night in Illyria. The least they could have done was bring inside a few of Feyre’s favorite wines, but no. She rolled her eyes yanking open the door to their wine cellar.

Darkness loomed in front of her eyes, and she gulped. Why the hell was it so creepy down there? She could have summoned someone to go down there for her, but she would have felt like a wimp. She looked back down the dim hallway leading to the cellar, the sound of the door creaking open echoing off the cold stone walls as the sconces lit the space with their flickering flame.

“Fuck me,” she grumbled, looking back to the stairs that led down into the cellar. The boys would make so much fun of her right now if they could see how skittish she was being about grabbing a bottle of wine from a cellar inside of an elaborately kempt mansion.

She felt along the wall to find sconces to light with the tapered candle she carried but found none. What the hell did they use to see down here? All of their spare training gear was down there too. She knew they didn’t just romp around down there in the darkness.

“Of course, there are no lights,” she mumbled with a huff as she began to descend the stairs. The wood creaked under her weight, the sound ricocheting off the walls and back to her. She hummed the first song that she could think of to distract her from how badly her legs were shaking as she slowly crept downwards, further into the darkness.

Something moved within the darkness, and she froze. She held her breath, waiting for the noise to repeat, but nothing came. She held her breath until she couldn’t anymore, breathing in deeply and shaking her head at herself. Why was she so spooked? In her defense, she didn’t spend much time alone anymore. One of the boys was always with her, tending to her and kissing her. No, if they were here, she’d be cozy in her bed as she sent one of them to fetch her wine and a glass and then would hold her and whisper sweet nothings to her in the dim light of their room. Bastards. She hoped they were having fun without her.

She stepped off the last stair, looking around with furrowed brows. She was embarrassed to admit that she’d never been down here. She knew Rhysand kept a backstock of ridiculously expensive wines, and she was in the mood for a good buzz. She chewed the inside of her cheeks, walking around a dark corner and gasped.

Rows and rows of wine bottles in elaborate containers, all looking like they costed more than she was willing to know. She smiled to herself at the ridiculous nature of her mate. She walked down the second aisle, freezing when she heard a quiet rustling sound. She needed to get the fuck out of there.

She squirmed uncomfortably as she read the labels, trying to pick one she’d actually like. She felt like she was being watched. She glanced all around her in paranoia, knowing she wouldn’t find anything there. She was just on edge tonight, and this wine would cure it.

She squinted at the bottles, reading the elegant script drawn on their labels that read to her the flavor profile. She picked up one with fruitier, lighter notes and spun it around, holding it up to inspect it.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a shattering clash from a few rows behind her. Her hands shook as she held on to the wine bottle. She walked back towards the sound slowly, cursing herself over and over. This was the worst idea she’d ever had. Every instinct told her to run, but yet her feet carried her forward. She knew it was stupid.

Rounding the corner of the aisle a few rows back, her jaw dropped when she saw a shattered wine bottle on the ground, the jagged glass no longer holding in the wine as it seeped across the floor like spilled blood. The deep crimson neared the toe of her slipper, and she gasped, shuffling back. Fuck this, she was out of here.

She bolted to the stairs, clambering up them as fast as her limbs would move and feeling the hair on the back of her neck rise as a chill crept down her spine. She could have sworn someone was right on her heels, chasing her, but she didn’t waste the time to turn and look. She lunged across the threshold back into the house with a relieved sigh, slamming the cellar door shut behind her and leaning her back against it as she closed her eyes and caught her breath.

She took a moment before she reopened her eyes and stood, but she froze as soon as she looked ahead of her. The side door of the house was open. She most certainly had not opened that door. And unless there was something she was missing, she was the only one at the House of Wind. Especially back here.

Creeping slowly forward, she neared the open door. It was pouring rain, the clattering more ominous than calming at the moment. She made it halfway down the hallway before the wind blew in, stealing the flames from their sconces and plunging her into darkness. Feyre’s skin crawled. Something was off.

She made it to the door, looking out into the stormy night and nearly fell to her knees and cried because of course it wasn’t as simple as just closing the door. The door to the boys’ birchin hung open, releasing plumes of steam into the night air. No light was on inside, but the steam had been turned on. Stupid bats must have left it open. She sat down her wine bottle and the candle that was no longer lit. The only light she had to guide her was the glow of the full moon, shining through the clouds as lightening crackled nearby.

She looked down at herself to realize she was only wearing thin cotton pajama shorts and a thin tank top, her nipples hard and poking through the fabric. It was freezing. She crossed her arms over herself and let out a string of expletives under her breath as she jogged toward the birchin, which sat down the hill and by the woods.

She heard the low rumble of thunder as the rain smacked against her face. She squinted through it, feeling her body becoming soaked with the rainfall. Her slippers squelched under her feet as they filled with water from the built puddles in the grass.

These assholes owed her big time. She couldn’t believe they’d been so careless. They must not have fully latched the doors after coming back from their sweat session and also forgot to turn off the steam before they left the birchin.

Feyre finally made it to the wooden birchin, swearing as she stepped inside and out of the rain. It was so dark in here. She couldn’t see anything at all. She knew the controls panel was somewhere along the back wall, so she walked forward slowly with her hands out in front of her so she wouldn’t run headfirst into the wall.

She was halfway there when the door of the birchin slammed shut behind her, locking her in total darkness. She gulped, tears threatening to well in her eyes in fear. Her body was a livewire.

“H-Hello?” She spoke into the darkness, praying there would be no answer. When there wasn’t, she slapped her hand over her mouth and bit back a sob. “Please.” She didn’t even know what she was begging for.

She sniffed, holding out her hands in front of her and squeezing her eyes shut tight as she walked toward the direction of the door. It was just the wind, she told herself. The wind had blown the door shut. Just like it had blown it open and turned the steam dial.

Her fingers met something solid and warm, and she yanked her hands back quickly, panting as she began to panic. She started to back up, away from whoever had locked themselves in here with her. Tamlin was dead, she told herself. No one was going to hurt her.

She stepped backwards, and nearly fell to her knees when her back collided with a broad chest. It was the boys, she repeated in her mind. They were back home early and were fucking with her. She loosed a small whimper, covering her mouth as tears streaked down her cheeks.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing all the way out here?” A voice spoke from the darkness, all gravel and seduction. “All alone, too. These woods are dangerous, you know.” Feyre froze, spinning to try and find the source of the voice. They had spoken so deeply and quietly she hadn’t been able to place the voice. She squeezed her thighs together.

“Wouldn’t want a man with bad intentions trapping you out here all alone, would you?” Another of them said. A shiver crawled down Feyre’s spine at the words and their insinuation. Was that what they’d done? Hunted her? Trapped her here alone in the darkness?

“I’d hate to see that happen to a pretty baby like you,” another cooed. They felt like they were enveloping her on all sides, surrounding her like a predator stalking prey. With their fae vision, they could see a hundred times more than Feyre could.

The steam caused her hair to stick to the nape of her neck. It surrounded her just as the men did, bringing life back into her bones and stopping the shaking and chattering she’d been suppressing from the frigid rain. She took note of the way the fabric of her shirt moved when she lifted her hands in front of her, rubbing against her pert and sensitive nipples.

The familiar musk of her Bonded filled her nose and she could have collapsed from relief. Well, until they spoke again.

“I’d hate to have to ruin you, but you’re just so alone and defenseless out here, what’s a bad man like me to do?” One said snidely, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. Definitely Azriel.

Fingers trailed across her upper back lightly, pushing her hair to the side before pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the top of her back. She breathed out at the feel of his lips on her skin. She would never understand how no matter how much time passed, they still made her feel this way.

“Please don’t,” she panted, feeding into their game.

“Oh, but I want to,” Cassian purred. She felt his hands trailing up the sides of her legs and pieced together that he was knelt in front of her. She squeezed her thighs together, breath catching as her stomach flipped.

Fingers traced circles around her nipples over the thin fabric of her tee shirt and she leaned into the touch, biting her lip to hide the whimper that wanted to escape past her plush pink lips. He pinched them and she moaned involuntarily, Cassian’s hands rising higher up her legs with every pass until eventually his fingers drifted below the fabric of her shorts to squeeze her ass.

Cassian growled.

“Out here alone with no panties, too?” He snarled, leaning forward to bite at her thigh, dragging his teeth across her skin as Azriel still stood behind her and Rhysand traced her nipples.

“Any bad men who found you could’ve taken advantage of you,” Azriel scolded. His fingers found the hem of her shirt, slowly pulling it up until she raised her arms, and he pulled it up on off of her, baring her breasts to the steam. Rhysand hissed at the sight, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “Could have taken you out to the woods where no one could hear just how much you wanted it when he sank himself inside you.”

“Thankfully, we made it just in time,” Cassian chimed in, squeezing her ass again before landing a sharp smack, massaging away the sting promptly after.

“Because you’re sweeter?” She asked, voice shaky. Azriel let out a dark chuckle, and she could feel the vibrations in his chest behind her.

“No, baby,” he corrected. “Because we’re much, much worse.” Her heart skipped, steam causing the surface of her skin to remain damp. Azriel brushed his fingers down her arms, soothing her.

“H-How are you worse?” She asked.

“Would you like for us to show you, darling?” Rhysand asked and she could feel his closeness as he gripped her jaw. Feyre swallowed, shaking as they all touched her, but not enough. No where near enough.

“I-I’m afraid,” she admitted.

Rhysand flicked his tongue against her bottom lip. “Good,” he purred against her lips.

Feyre gasped as Cassian gripped the top of her shorts and pulled them down, lifting her feet gently one-by-one to remove them entirely. Feyre stood between her Bonded, entirely naked and with their hands all over her.

“What are you going to do to me?” She cried.

“Whatever we want,” Azriel snarked, biting her earlobe and dragging his teeth lightly. She shivered. Cassian lifted her left leg behind her knee, wrenching it over his shoulder so that her ankle dangled against his chiseled back. Feyre bit her lip as she felt the warmth of Cassian’s breath against her spread pussy. More. She needed more. Azriel reached around her to palm her breasts, twisting her nipples between his fingers and feeling her writhe under his touch.

“You knew better than to come out here alone,” Rhysand tsked, running his thumb across her bottom lip as she released it from her teeth. Then he pressed his thumb into her mouth. She closed her lips around his finger, sucking at him and loving the way his breath hitched. “I think you wanted to be fucked, didn’t you? Wearing no panties and barely any clothes, coming in here soaking wet. Makes my cock ache to fill you.”

Feyre sucked in a breath through her teeth as she felt the very tip of Cassian’s tongue drag up the crease where her thigh met her center, circling around her pussy, but never tasting her fully. She writhed back against Azriel, whining. He growled, leaning his head forward to suck at her neck. Rhysand pulled his thumb from her mouth before moving Azriel’s hand to lap at her nipple with his mouth, sucking on her and twisting it gently between his teeth as he flicked his tongue. Her core was pulsing with need, so desperate for anything more.

Feyre felt Azriel’s arm against her as he knotted his hands in Rhysand’s hair and held him against Feyre’s breast. She moaned, bucking her hips towards Cassian’s mouth, which made him pull away entirely. She cried out in protest, and he landed a sharp smack over her cunt, making her snap her mouth shut.

“Needy girl,” Azriel taunted, mouth still on her neck. “Bet you’re dripping, aren’t you? Wondering out into the woods all alone to get cock. What a pretty little plaything you make.” Feyre purred under their touch. Rhysand released Feyre’s nipple to capture her mouth with his own, laving his tongue against hers slowly, making it even wetter between her legs.

Rhysand wrapped his hands around Feyre’s neck, squeezing the sides and limiting her air flow as Azriel sucked her neck and Cassian finally ran his tongue up her center. She groaned into Rhysand’s mouth as Cass began to slowly explore her pussy with his mouth.

“Taste so fucking sweet,” Cassian growled against her, “and so innocent.”

Azriel hummed against her skin, still playing with her nipples as Cassian eased one finger inside of her, feeling herself clench around him. He swore, shivering.

“And so fucking tight,” he praised. “I can’t wait to watch this pretty pussy struggle to take all of me. I wanna fucking ruin you.” She moaned at his words, Rhysand moaning back into her mouth as he kissed her.

“Let me see you,” Feyre begged. Rhysand didn’t stop kissing Feyre as he magically lit one of the sconces, leaving them in the flickering dim light. But it was enough for her to finally see them and see how beautiful they all were like this, worshiping her body with their own.

“I want your mouth on my cock,” Rhysand said against Feyre’s lips. She smiled as she kissed him again, nodding. They all moved at once. Feyre dropped down on all fours with Rhysand in front of her and Cassian behind her. Cassian groped her asscheeks, admiring the view when she was bent over like this. He ran his fingers through her folds, gathering her wetness on his two middle fingers.

He lifted his hand, offering his fingers to Rhysand, who sucked Cassian’s fingers into his mouth, using his tongue to gather the taste of her from Cassian’s skin. Feyre’s cunt clenched involuntarily at the sight of Cassian’s fingers in Rhys’ mouth. Her lips parted in desire.

Feyre’s fingers found the button on Rhys’ jeans and slowly undid it, pulling down his zipper and helping him push them down his hips and step out of them. His size always shocked her like it was the first time she’d seen it. She looked up at him from under her lashes, licking the bottom of his head.

He growled, gripping underneath her jaw as he looked down to watch her.

“So pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he praised her, rubbing his thumb along her jaw as she opened her mouth to take him deeper, beginning to bob her head. Rhys moaned, breathing heavily through his mouth as he looked down at her, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat.

Feyre felt the head of Cassian’s cock nudge at her entrance and moaned, the vibrations from her mouth against his cock making Rhys whine. Cassian pushed into Feyre slowly, moaning at the tight grip she had on him. He had to work himself into her slowly, the stretch of him delicious.

“Love watching you take them,” Azriel panted from where he was beside Cassian.

Feyre looked over her shoulder once she released Rhys from her mouth and saw Cassian’s fist wrapped around Azriel’s cock, pumping him at the same rate he was fucking Feyre. Both of their eyes were focused on the grip her pussy had on Cassian’s cock as he pushed in and out of her.

Feyre’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, the idea of the three men using each other for pleasure making her lightheaded. When she looked back up to Rhysand, he was smirking at her, knowing just how much she liked seeing Az and Cass together. She kept her eyes locked on his as she pulsed around Cassian, squeezing him even harder as she came with an exaggerated moan.

Rhys gripped her throat.

“Keep your eyes on me and swallow my cock,” Rhysand commanded. She opened her mouth and he slid back in with a hum of approval, pushing much deeper this time. She relaxed her throat to take in more of him as the force of Cassian fucking her from behind aided her in getting Rhysand as deep as he could go.

Azriel whimpered as Cassian picked up the pace, sweat dripping from his chest as he worked the both of them. Rhys’ head tipped backwards as Feyre swallowed around him as many times as she could.

“Think you can take both of them?” Rhysand said with a smug smile, looking down his immaculately carved chest. Gods, he was beautiful. Feyre nodded, eager to please him when he made her feel as good as he did. “I want to watch them fill you.”

Feyre swallowed around Rhys before pulling him out and caressing her tongue around the head of him, feeling drool dripping from her chin. Cassian pressed his thumb against the tighter hole of the two, slowly working her up for Az.

“Alright baby, I need you to ride me,” Cass huffed, pulling out to lay on his back. Feyre climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, sinking back down on him as she felt Azriel positioning himself behind her, slowly beginning to push himself inside of her. Her jaw dropped open and she cried out at the stretch, the fullness of both of them.

“Such a good girl,” Rhysand praised her, kneeling in front of her to cup her face and comfort her until she got used to the feel of taking both of them. “So proud of you baby. You look so pretty being so full.” She gripped Rhys’ hands tightly as Azriel fully seated himself inside of her. He leaned forward, pressing kisses to her back and staying still to allow Feyre a moment.

“Feel so damn good, bunny,” he praised between kisses. Feyre took a deep breath, nodding to let them know they could move. They swore under their breath, pulling out to push back into her. She moaned, feeling the perfect fullness she never knew she craved.

Rhys repositioned himself at her lips and she eagerly opened for him, taking him back deep into her throat and massaging her tongue against the base of him. He groaned, watching her take all of them at once, pumping faster into her throat as he gripped the sides of her head, losing control already.

He pumped in and out a few more times before stilling, his cock twitching in her throat as he came in her mouth, filling her with the salty taste of him. She swallowed and he whimpered watching her, finally pulling out of her to collapse onto the bench of the birchin.

“Not… gonna… last, FUCK,” Azriel said, gritting his teeth. He hit a deeper place inside of her, and she screamed, pushing back into him as she felt her stomach tightening and her legs shaking around Cassian’s hips as she came again, the rush of it flooding her head and filling her with a euphoric feeling.

“Me either,” Cassian panted as Feyre leaned forward and kissed at his neck. The two of them came inside her almost as if on cue, sitting inside of her as they caught their breath, a whine escaping as they pulled out of her and watched their seed drip out of her.

Azriel gripped Feyre’s face, pressing a kiss to her mouth and leaning his forehead against hers as he continued to calm himself down.

“My best fucking girl,” he praised, knotting his hand in his hair at the nape of her neck. The words filled her with warmth. He picked her up, Rhysand going to turn off the steam and gather their discarded clothes as they readied themselves to run back through the rain. When they did, Az carried her so she could keep her feet dry.

They all showered together before collapsing into bed together where they all became a pile of limbs and lazy smiles. They were all exhausted, but more than happy to be together. It hit Feyre like a million bricks how much she loved and adored them all. When she had caught the slightest glimpse of them loving each other, it had filled her with the brightest glow in her chest.

She sat up, looking down at all of them, soaking in their features and tired eyes, heart squeezing at their messy hair. They all looked back at her from where they laid around her. Azriel rubbed a hand up Feyre’s thigh.

“What is it, bunny? Tell me,” he said, always the first to notice a shift in energy. She smiled softly at him before blushing and burying her face in her hands. He chuckled, slowly pulling them away. She looked at the three of them, and decided she couldn’t hold it inside her chest any longer.

“I-...” She cleared her throat. “I love you. All of you. Each of you.” The sparkle that lit in all of their eyes at her words threatened to send her to tears. They all sat up, taking her in with furrowed brows as if unsure they’d really heard her correctly.

“You taught me how to to feel comfortable in my own skin,” she chuckled, wiping away a tear that fell from her eye. Rhys rubbed his thumb along her cheek lovingly. “Thank you for teaching me to love me by making me love you.”

“Everything I’ve ever felt is dim in comparison to what I feel for you. I’m not sure if love is a strong enough word for what you do to me, do to my heart.” Feyre laughed, a huge goofy smile on her face as tears kept falling.

“You are everything,” Azriel said. “You own every part of me. It’s yours to take.” Feyre leaned forward, kissing him slowly before pulling back, tears still streaming from her eyes. But not sad tears. Not sad tears at all.

“You are the first person I ever want to tell any good news to,” Cassian mused, looking at her with a grave look. “If I make myself tea, I wonder if you’d want some too. When I see a beautiful sunset, I think about how much you’d love it too. I always save the best bite of every meal for you, because I know how much you love to try my food, too. I wake up thinking of what you might want for breakfast and fall asleep hoping you’re comfortable and warm enough. You just are. You’re a part of me now, like a phantom limb.” Feyre sobbed, leaning into his chest and letting him hold her. She’d never known love could be so consuming, so healing.

“So, yeah, we love you too,” Azriel chuckled, and they all laughed, holding onto each other for dear life, afraid to ever let go.

Chapter Text

Rhysand had suggested they take a trip somewhere alone. He’d wanted the time to spend with his Bonded group and was desperate for some new scenery. Which is why Feyre is currently on a chaise lounge, basking in the sun like a lizard. Rhysand had found an area in Summer Court that had houses built above water, a boardwalk connecting them to the mainland. The weather today was perfect. The breeze tousled Feyre’s hair as she sipped on the daiquiri the boys had made her.

She never knew life had the possibility of being so fucking good. Really not sure how she lucked out, but grateful she did, Feyre took full advantage. She smiled to herself when she thought about the week ahead and all of the trouble her Bondeds probably had in store.

Emerging from their hut, Rhysand stood beside Feyre’s chair, gesturing for her to sit up. He slid in behind her, straddling her body with his powerful legs. He used an arm to pull Feyre back against his bare chest, her skin singing at the contact. She hated that it took so little for her to want them all now.

“Enjoying the sun, Feyre darling?” Rhysand murmured, kissing underneath her ear. She tipped her head to the side to give him better access. Taking full advantage, he bit her playfully, soothing the hurt with his lips and tongue.

“Mhmmm,” she hummed, closing her eyes behind her sunglasses.

“Admittedly, I wish you could be in a swimsuit all the time,” he purred, running his hands up her thighs with a creeping slowness.

“The feeling is mutual,” she whined, feeling his bare chest against the naked skin on her back. The bikini she wore was skimpy at best. It covered only what was socially unacceptable to show. A gift from Cassian. To himself.

“I love having you all to myself,” he cooed, hands still stroking her thighs.

“Yeah?” Feyre encouraged, squirming in her seat to feel the forming hardness of him against her back. He paid it no mind at all.

“Hmm,” he nodded. “Mine to do whatever I want with.”

“Please,” she whimpered. But he did nothing to soothe the ache growing between her sunkissed legs. He was toying with her. He pushed her hair to the side to kiss the back of her neck, making her sigh.

“Finish your drink, Feyre,” he said, stilling his hands and pushing her back into his chest. Her jaw dropped. He was insufferable.

“I know what else I could drink instead,” she teased. She felt his cock twitch at her back and smiled.

“Oh, I do, too,” he said, not moving.

Pouting she started sipping her drink again, leaning her head back onto Rhys’ shoulder and closing her eyes against the sun rays beaming even through her sunglasses. It was just so perfect outside. Feyre wished the Night Court had weather like this.

They laid like that for a few minutes in silence. Feyre was content. She could genuinely fall asleep like this, in Rhysand’s arms. Eyes still closed, she felt light touches over the fabric of her swimsuit top, circling her nipple. She stiffened.

Rhysand drew lazy circles around her breast, making her core ache with the absence of him. She bit her bottom lip to hide the moans that wanted to escape her mouth. He switched hands to do the same on the other nipple, and Feyre thought she was going to lose her mind.

“Rhysssss,” she whined.

“Yes, love?” She could hear the sleepy smile in his voice. Gods she was so in love with him. It overwhelmed her sometimes, knowing he was hers.

“Touch me,” she sighed.

His nose brushed against her ear, his breath tickling her neck and making her shiver. He still toyed with her nipple, going back to kissing and sucking on her neck. She closed her eyes and soaked in the delicious feel and smell of him as he touched her.

He pinched her nipple, making her gasp. She arched her back, pushing her breasts into her palm. Her hands found his thighs on either side of her own legs and touched him the only way she could in this position.

“Rhys, please,” she begged. He wasn’t giving her what she needed.

“Greedy girl,” he taunted as he bit her neck. “This is where you want to do this? Out here where anyone could see me playing with that pretty little pussy?” His words made her wetter and more anxious for his affection.

Feyre looked around, seeing the only people outside being way too far down to see and understand what was happening. Plus, who’s to say they weren’t doing the same thing, scared she and Rhys might see?

“I need you,” she begged.

“Then spread your legs for me,” he growled, putting is hands on the inside of her thighs to forcefully part her legs, baring her obscenely to the summer air and breeze. She moaned under his touch as he teasingly dragged his fingers up and down her inner thighs.

His fingers trailed closer, sliding underneath the fabric of her swim bottoms, teasing her. She bucked her hips into his hand, and he chuckled. “I love it when you’re a needy little slut. You’ve made a mess between these thighs for me.” She moaned as his fingers dipped between her folds, feeling the wetness pooled there for him.

He teased her entrance with his finger for a while before using her arousal to glide his fingers across her clit. Her jaw hung open at the feel of it. He sucked on her neck as he played with her, reaching up to pinch her nipple with his free hand, rolling it beneath his fingers.

“Does that feel good, Feyre?” He murmured against her skin. She nodded.

“So good,” she breathed out. He moved in faster and tighter circles around her clit, making her legs twitch with the building tension in her center.

“Perfect timing,” Azriel said from behind them. Feyre jumped, turning to look over her shoulder at him. She felt Rhysand’s lazy grin at the new arrival. “I’m starving. A pussy that pretty deserves to be eaten, don’t you think, Feyre?”

Her eyes widened and she nodded.

He rounded the chaise lounge they lay on, laying on his stomach between Rhysand and Feyre’s spread legs. Rhysand kept playing with her cunt as Azriel kissed up the inside of her thighs.

“Eyes on me baby,” Azriel murmured as he licked up her center. She shuddered against Rhysand, who held her tightly. He returned to playing with her nipples as Azriel tasted her. With no sense of haste, he tasted all of her, swirling his tongue slowly and sensually. Feyre felt like her core had been set on fire with pleasure. She grinded her hips onto his tongue as he suckled at her.

“Wanna try something new, Feyre?” Rhys purred against her neck. She nodded breathlessly. Azriel pulled back and she whined. He gave her a sly smirk and she could feel herself pulsing at the sight of her arousal on his chin.

“Lift up for me, baby,” Rhys asked. She obeyed, rising to her knees. She watched him unlace his swim shorts, stroking himself a few times before pulling her back onto him. He notched the head of his cock at her entrance, slowly sinking inside of her until she was so full she could feel him in her stomach. She moaned at the feel of him, grinding her hips in circles without lifting herself up and off of him.

He gripped her hips with bruising force, roughly pulling out and slamming into her a few times before pulling her back onto his lap, cock still buried deep inside of her. He parted her legs again, as wide as they’d go.

“Look at you two,” Azriel mused. “You’re both making me so fucking hard.” Feyre chewed her lip as her cheeks heated under the weight of his gaze. He lowered himself back to his stomach between them.

He licked at her again, sucking her clit into his mouth and flicking his tongue against it in the way he knew drove Feyre crazy. She moaned, panting loudly.

“Shh,” Rhys whispered into her ear. “Be careful, baby. Unless you want the neighbors to watch?” She groaned under her breath, resting her head back against his shoulder. Rhysand hissed and his cock jumped inside of her. Scrunching her brows, Feyre looked back between her legs.

Azriel was positioned in the perfect place to taste Feyre while also occasionally flicking the base of Rhys’ cock with his tongue. The sight made her mouth water. She felt herself squeeze around Rhys, letting him know involuntarily just how much she liked it.

“Yeah, pretty girl?” Rhys growled, roughly knotting his hand in her hair and jerking her head back to look at him. “You like it when he licks my cock?”

She whined, wiggling in his lap.

“Yes,” she admitted, cheeks blazing.

“Dirty girl,” Rhysand chided, licking her neck before biting it again. He dragged her earlobe through his teeth, pressing somehow even deeper inside of her.

Cass emerged from the hut with a yawn, grinning at the sight before him, like this was exactly what he wanted to wake up to. He pulled up another chaise, sitting with his back to the neighbors and facing Feyre, blocking the limited view they could’ve possibly had.

He leaned back on his hands, watching the three of them work each other. Feyre moaned, arching her back as Azriel sucked her harder and with more intention, apparently unhappy about her divided attention.

“Fuck, Az,” she panted, feeling him smile against her. He flicked his tongue with unbelievable skill. Feyre felt her legs tightening and core squeezing as Rhysand held her legs spread open so she couldn’t block Azriel’s torturous praising.

She turned, biting down on Rhysand’s shoulder as she came, muffling her cries as her legs began to shake. Her chest heaved as she came down, Azriel sitting up with a satisfied smile, breathing equally as heavy as he looked down at her splayed open on Rhysand’s cock.

Rhysand pulled Feyre up and off his cock. She whined in protest, but he ignored her as he sat her down gently on the chaise, swim bottoms still pushed to the side. The look in Rhysand’s eyes was one she’d learned to be terrified of.

“Cass?” Rhys said, not taking his eyes off Feyre as he talked to his friend.

“Hmm,” he responded, also eyeing Feyre and the flush across her ample chest.

“Apparently, our greedy girl likes watching us with each other,” Rhys mused with a sadistic grin. Cassian’s eyes lit up.

“Is that so?” He asked, looking at Feyre.

She chewed her lip, nodding shyly.

“So, why don’t you come clean me off and tell her how good she did?” Feyre’s stomach did sommersaults and she decided there was absolutely no way she survived this trip. They were going to kill her.

Cass smirked as he went to his knees on the side of the chaise. Rhysand adjusted so that Cassian was between his legs. Feyre’s stomach felt flooded with butterflies as she anxiously watched the two of them. Az pulled her into his lap, letting his fingers wander through her wetness before pushing two of his long fingers inside of her. She moaned in approval, rolling her hips against his hand.

Cassian lowered his head, sticking out his tongue to slowly rub the head of Rhys’ cock against the warm wetness of his tongue. Rhys hissed as he watched his friend licking him. Feyre felt lightheaded as Azriel’s fingers pumped in and out of her at a steady pace.

Cassian’s mouth wrapped around Rhys, whose eyebrows screwed up in pleasure as his mouth hung open. He seemed torn between watching Azriel’s fingers disappear in Feyre’s cunt and watching his friend suck his cock.

“You two are turning me on so much right now,” Feyre mewled, leaning back against Azriel’s chest as she watched them.

“FUCK,” Rhys swore as Cassian swallowed him deeper, nearly getting all of it in already. Rhys roughly grabbed the back of Cassian’s head, fucking his hips up and down Cass’ throat. Cass gagged around him and Rhys whined as he panted. He pulled him up to let him breathe before pushing him back down even harder and feeling him continually gag around him. He pulled him up and off, chest rising and falling at an intense pace.

Looking back over her shoulder, Feyre noticed the neighbors were gone now, which freed them to do whatever they wanted as loud as they wanted. Cass used the back of his hand to wipe the spit from the corners of his mouth.

He turned to Feyre, gripping her jaw before fiercely kissing her.

“You taste,” he said, flicking his tongue across her bottom lip, “so fucking good.” She moaned into his mouth.

“Feyre, ass up,” Rhysand ordered. She whimpered as she obeyed, pressing her chest and face against the chaise and bending her knees so that her pussy was on full display. He smacked her ass and she moaned as he massaged the muscles under his fingers.

“Now you’re going to take every single one of us,” Rhysand growled. “I wanna see this pussy dripping in cum by the time we’re done with you.” Feyre’s eyes rolled back into her head. Once she’d noticed her male’s affinity for finishing inside of her, she’d had Madja create a birth control tincture for her that only needed to be taken once a month, which had been a godsend.

“Cass,” Rhys growled, “Take her.”

Cassian licked his lips as he unlaced his board shorts and moved to stand behind her. He yanked her body to the edge and placed his knee on the chaise as he stood behind her. He rubbed the head of his cock through her arousal before shoving himself fully inside of her with a grunt. She sighed at the familiar stretch of him inside of her. He gripped her hips tight, yanking her back into him so hard that her tits were bouncing, even still in her swim top.

Azriel situated himself in front of Feyre, legs spread wide. He pulled his cock out of his shorts, already hard and ready. He smirked down at her as Cassian fucked her relentlessly.

“Give me your mouth,” Az growled, gripping the hair at the base of her scalp to position her the way he wanted her. She parted her lips, sucking him in and reveling in the noises he made as she lapped her tongue around the head.

“Look at you,” Rhysand scolded. “Such a good little slut, so desperate to be filled you didn’t even mind if the neighbors watched.” He sat on the second chaise, watching as he stroked himself.

Rhys leaned forward, pulling Feyre’s head off of Azriel and back so her neck was straining slightly. He placed his palm under her chin. “Spit,” he commanded. She obeyed, spitting in his hand. “Good girl,” he praised her.

He used the spit in his hand to lubricate his cock as he pleasured himself to the sight of her being pounded from both sides. Something in Azriel snapped and he stopped being so gentle. He shoved himself into Feyre’s mouth, groaning at the resistance.

“Relax your throat, baby,” he commanded. “Swallow me deeper. You can do better than that.” Eager to please, she obeyed and he slammed his hips forward, filling her throat fully. She gagged around him and he held her there, coming undone as she milked him.

Cassian grunted, his pace becoming reckless as he fucked her from behind. He reached down to stimulate her clit and she clenched down on him, making him spill inside of her with a howl of pleasure. He breathed heavily, pulling out to watch his cum drip down her legs. She hadn’t even noticed his movement as Rhysand pressed into her with no warning.

She moaned around Azriel’s cock and he whined, pumping into her mouth at a pace that let her breathe, but not enough. She swallowed around him and he bucked his hips. Rhysand fucked her from behind, already close from fucking his own hand.

“Harder, Rhys,” Feyre begged, and Rhys swore under his breath and obeyed, gripping her hips hard enough that she could feel bruises forming as he hit that delicious spot deep inside of her that had her purring like a cat, pulsating around him as she came. He followed closely behind, pumping deeper as he spilled inside of her.

He hummed in approval at the sight of her before smacking her ass and collapsing on the second chaise behind Cassian. Azriel lifted her, flipping her body around so she was sat in his lap, her back to his chest. He set her on her feet, leaning her forward slightly before pushing his cock inside of her, sighing.

“I’ll never get tired of the feeling of you wrapped around me,” he swore. He gripped her hips to help her bounce on his cock. She groaned, rolling her head back onto his shoulder as he fucked her so good she couldn’t even remember where they were. She relished the feel of him inside of her.

She started to come again, squeezing around him in a way that made him speed up his thrusts, growing messy and frantic. He used her body to please himself as he fucked into her however he wanted to. He praised her and the way she gripped him as she did, before in turn coming inside of her.

Once they had calmed down enough, they showered, feeling the slight burn of their skin from the unrelenting sun. They crawled into the white linen sheets and feathered pillows cushioned their heads. They joked and enjoyed each other’s company before falling into the best nap of their lives, the sliding door to the water still open to allow the breeze to flow in, and to lull them to sleep with the cyclical sound of the waves.

Chapter Text

On Feyre’s birthday, she had one singular wish. Just one time, she wanted to be the one in charge in the bedroom. Az, Cass, and Rhys had been incredibly hesitant but had eventually caved after she’d sufficiently begged. Feyre grinned at herself in the mirror, taking in her cat eye and red lip combo. She placed her black lace mask around her eyes, tying the silk tie at the back of her head to hold it in place. She straightened out her tiny little black slip and chugged the rest of her wine, taking a deep breath and reminding herself just how desperate these men were for any singular bit of her attention.

There was no reason to be afraid, but she felt like a mouse caught in a trap. She needed to bolster herself. Confidence was the key to this whole thing. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes to center herself for a few moments before she grabbed the small box of props she’d brought for herself to use on the boys.

Deciding at the last minute, she slipped her feet into a seductive pair of heels Rhysand had bought her for a gala event they’d attended earlier on in their relationship. Squaring her shoulders, she opened the door and walked down the hallway until she came to their bedroom door. She knew the three of them were already inside, waiting for her.

She tried to remind herself that if given the chance, they would seize control from her if she made it seem like she couldn’t handle being in charge. She was determined to exact her revenge for all of the stunts they’d pulled in the bedroom over their time together. It was time for payback.

Feyre opened the door, stepping inside to see them in the small sitting area of their room, each of them holding a glass of bourbon and looking entirely unphased. Until they looked up and saw her, that is. The silence in the room was deafening the moment they laid eyes on her.

“Oh, I’m gonna like this,” Azriel said with a sly grin, sinking further into his seat, arms stretched across the back of the sofa as he looked at her in a way that made her stomach heat. Fuck. Focus, Feyre.

She walked to the other side of the room, making a show of bending over to sit her basket of toys down, allowing the black slip to ride up slightly and expose the red lace she was wearing underneath. One of them swore behind her, and she smirked. It was the confidence boost she needed.

She grabbed a small riding crop from the box, twirling it in her fingers as she turned and slowly strode over to the men. She gave her most seductive smile, looking at them from under her lashes as she neared. She felt powerful as fuck, honestly.

“I hear you three have been bad boys,” she purred. “Seems you all need to be punished.” Cassian’s wicked grin widened as he looked at both Azriel and Rhysand to make sure they were seeing this too. Rhys quirked up a brow, and Azriel looked smug as fuck. She planned to fix that.

“Seems we do,” Cassian grinned. She ran the riding crop across his chest slowly, lifting it to press under his chin to force him to look at her before lightly smacking it against his cheek in warning.

“Strip,” she said, looking down her nose and looking bored. “On the bed, backs against the headboard. I won’t ask twice.” She turned her back to them, but could feel their shock as they stiffened, but ultimately began to obey her instructions. Back turned so they couldn’t see, she bit her lip and urged herself on.

“Yes, ma’am,” Azriel said with a chuckle, like he didn’t take this the least bit seriously. Feyre planned to have him begging and whimpering by the end, so she’d see just how serious he found it then. Their arrogance and disregard for her command only made her want to be more demanding. Someone needed to teach these boys a lesson, and she was proud to be their professor for the night.

They all piled onto their shared bed, backs against the headboard like she’d ordered, snickering and elbowing each other. Schooling her features back into disappointed boredom, she grabbed three sets of handcuffs from her basket.

Cassian’s eyes rounded when she came to him first, completely ignoring his naked body despite how much she wanted to worship it. That was not what tonight was for. She secured a metal clamp around each wrist, lifting his hands over his head and onto the hooks they’d had installed into their headboard. She secured Rhysand next, straddling his lap from where he sat in the middle of the other two. He tried to touch her, but she remained intentionally just out of reach. She lastly secured Azriel’s hands above his head, who seemed full of wicked delight. Azriel was getting off on this.

“It seems you three have become quite used to getting what you want, when you want it,” Feyre said seductively, standing at the foot of the bed where she looked at the three of them on display for her. “I plan to break that.”

“Is that so, little mouse?” Cassian chided. Feyre leveled her unimpressed gaze on him, and he quickly shut his mouth.

“Smart boy,” Feyre cooed to him in praise.

“You know, eventually these shackles come off, Feyre darling,” Rhys said nonchalantly, the threat hidden in his tone. Like he didn’t even feel the need to threaten it.

“Mmm, you see, Rhysand, dear,” Feyre smiled a sadistic smile. “Only good boys get what they want.” He snorted, but she ignored him. She dimmed the lighting and lit a few candles, creating an ambiance in the room. She ran her hands up her body, attempting to awake her own senses.

She sighed into her own touch, mussing her hair and allowing her hands to explore. She eventually let her hands drift to her breasts, where she kneaded them in her palms, twisting her nipples between her fingers and moaning at the sensation. The men fell utterly silent.

She crossed her arms in front of herself, gripping the hem of the dress and slowly pulling it up and over her head, dropping it to the floor and leaving her in a pair of skimpy red lace underthings, her high heels, and the mask around her eyes.

“Shit,” Rhys murmured under his breath.

She walked to the edge of the bed, slowly climbing onto the mattress and prowling toward them, before pulling up short. She was close enough that they could have touched her if they had use of their hands. Cassian yanked at his handcuffs, grumbling under his breath and likely planning how he planned to punish her once this was finished.

She sat back, leaning on her elbows as she faced them. She slowly pulled her knees up before spreading her legs wide, baring herself to them, her pussy only covered by sheer red lace. Their lips parted as they watched her.

“Gods,” Azriel panted, swallowing.

Feyre’s fingers once again began playing with her nipples, moaning and tossing her head back at the sensation of sparks of pleasure zinging to her core. She would have killed for one of them to have their mouths on her, but she wasn’t ready to allow them to touch her yet.

“I’m so wet,” she moaned, slowly gliding her fingers down her torso to massage herself over the fabric. She chewed her bottom lip, making eye contact with Rhysand as she began to touch herself in front of them.

“I can tell,” Azriel said, voice gravelly and desperate.

“Mmm,” Feyre moaned, “I love feeling your eyes on me.” She tossed her long hair back over her shoulders and turned her head to look at Cassian, who was scowling like she’d broken his favorite toy.

“Then let us actually see you,” Rhysand groaned, looking down to the dampness soaking through the fabric between her thighs. She ignored his request, working at her own pace. She sat up, cupping her breasts again. She moaned, pushing down the cups so that her hands were directly on her skin.

“Fuck,” Cassian whined, yanking on his cuffs again. Feyre licked the pads of her thumbs, placing them back on her nipples and rolling them under her finger. Wetness pooled between her thighs knowing how hard the three of them were, knowing there was nothing they could do to appease the ache.

Feyre reached behind herself, unfastening her bra. She pulled the lace down her shoulders and flicked it, watching it land against Azriel’s thigh. She moved to unbuckle the high heels, but Rhysand stopped her.

“Leave them,” he begged. This request, Feyre obeyed, with a devilish grin. She allowed her hand to rub herself over her panties, panting and bucking her hips against her own hand. Finally caving, she slid her legs closed to lift her hips and shimmy out of her panties, reaching forward to place them in Rhysand’s mouth, who glared at her, but it didn’t quite seem like he meant it.

“If I want instructions, I’ll ask for them,” she growled, sitting back once he wasn’t able to speak anymore due to the fabric in his mouth.

“Can we see?” Azriel asked, voice slightly whiny. Feyre slowly opened her legs once more, baring her pussy to the cold air of their bedroom. All of them audibly groaned at the sight of her, and she was glad the mask mostly hid the blush on her cheeks. They still made her so nervous even after all this time.

“So beautiful,” Cassian griped.

“This is really turning you on, isn’t it?” Azriel questioned, eyes alight with wicked amusement. “You’re soaked. You can dominate me anytime you want to, baby. I’ll be whatever the fuck you want me to be.”

Feyre shivered, allowing her hand to slowly explore her folds as their eyes focused in on her every movement. She whimpered as she slid a finger inside of herself and Rhysand growled, impatiently yanking on his cuffs but unable to try and give her directions for what he wanted. She sighed, pushing two fingers inside on the second thrust.

She pulled her fingers out, crawling to Azriel and placing them on his tongue. He growled with acceptance as he slowly laved his tongue against her skin, sucking the taste of her off. Once she was satisfied, she pulled back and spread herself open again.

“You taste so good,” Azriel breathed.

“When you’re all in Illyria, this is what I do,” Feyre cried out as she circled her clit with the wetness from Azriel’s mouth. “I touch myself and think of the way you three worship me.” She moved in tighter circles, already nearing an orgasm from the sexual tension in the room. Her skin felt like it was on fire.

“We do the same,” Cass sighed.

“Do you ever touch each other?” Feyre raised an eyebrow.

Rhysand looked at Cassian with an angry glare. Feyre kept her attention focused on Cassian as she touched herself and he looked ready to explode. She knew he didn’t want to answer that question.

“Sometimes,” Cassian admitted.

“That’s so hot,” Feyre groaned, inserting her fingers back inside of herself. She looked back at Rhysand, who still kept her underwear in his mouth, an evil look in those violet eyes. It made her shiver, just imagining what revenge he was conjuring up for her. She liked fucking Rhysand best when he was angry. He could be ruthless.

“You would feel so good inside me right now,” she said to Rhys. He yanked harshly on the cuffs, letting her know that like they’d warned, the cuffs would come off eventually.

"Uncuff me and I'll show you just how good I feel," he tempted her with a raised brow and smirk.

“Let me taste you,” Azriel begged, so game to play her games. Her heart beamed with the affection she felt for the shadowsinger. He was at his core, a team player. And he was certainly not shy about his attraction to Feyre.

“Not yet,” she said as she continued to work herself up to an orgasm, feeling her thighs tighten and her body stiffen as her mouth fell open, eyes screwed up in pleasure as she rode her high, orgasm cresting and rocking her world. Once she fully came down, she pulled her hands away and let them see the mess she’d made of herself.

She moved to climb in Cassian’s lap, straddling his legs and lifting up to that she placed herself in the perfect position for him to enclose his warm mouth around her nipple, sucking and rolling the bud underneath his skilled tongue.

Feyre’s body twitched, writhing in his lap as she grew impossibly wetter. He swapped to the other nipple, not stopping until she was making the most delicious noises, attempting to push herself farther in his mouth. He pulled off her with a pop and Feyre wasted no time climbing over and onto Rhysand’s lap.

She pulled her underwear from his mouth, and he leaned forward, nicking his teeth at her jaw playfully, letting her know he wasn’t really upset. She sat herself down completely, feeling the impossible hardness of his cock against her cunt.

He shuddered as she began to grind herself against the length of him. She was soaked by now, and the lubrication made the glide exquisite. She gave a high-pitched cry as she rode him, seeking out her own pleasure as he whined beneath her, desperate for more than she was giving him. She knew he was mentally begging her to allow him to sink inside of her, but she wouldn’t. And he couldn’t reach down and position himself so that he could. He moved his hips with hers nearly involuntarily as he watched her writhe atop him.

Still in Rhysand’s lap but somewhat stilling her movements, she leaned over and claimed Azriel’s mouth with her own, swallowing his noises of pleasured acceptance and worshipping his tongue with her own. Rhysand leaned down, sucking a nipple into his mouth and she shrieked in surprise, but made no move to stop him. Cassian watched, looking pitiful with need.

She pulled back from all of them, making eye contact with each of them before turning her body until she was on all fours, facing away from them. She nearly grinned as she leaned over, placing her face against the quilt so that her ass was in the air, exposing her pussy at a new angle, one that just happened to be their favorite.

“You’re so fucking mean,” Cassian whined.

“My cock is fucking aching for you, Feyre,” Rhysand begged. "Please."

She reached her hands between her legs, stimulating her clit from this angle, wiggling her hips as she sought her own pleasure. She couldn’t deny the ache between her own legs for one of them to fill her.

“Spread yourself,” Azriel murmured.

Since he’d been the best behaved, Feyre obeyed, using her hand to spread herself open so they could see all of her. They all looked like they were going to be ill. They were all insanely hard, hips itching for any form of friction.

“Do you promise to be good if I uncuff you?” She asked, raising her brows at them. They all nodded eagerly. She smiled to herself as she moved to unchain them one by one, being careful so that they didn’t touch her or themselves.

“Az,” Feyre said, running her hands down his chest. “I want to ride your tongue.” Azriel’s eyes nearly rolled back into his head at the idea. She chewed her lip, looking at the other two. She’d find a task for each of them, but first, she wanted to make them watch.

Azriel lay horizontally on their bed, reaching for Feyre. She gave a devilish grin, moving to place her hips above his face. He looked to her for approval as he gripped her hips, and seeing she was allowing him that bit of control, yanked her down and onto his face.

“I want you so badly that I kind of want to kill him right now,” Rhys growled. Feyre laughed softly, the sound being quickly cut off by a gasp as Azriel began to run his tongue up the center of her, which made her knees weak.

“Come here, my love,” Feyre smiled, reaching for Rhysand. Looking like he couldn’t have been happier to be chosen, she pulled him in front of her, where he knelt. She leaned forward, being sure to keep consistent eye contact with him as she darted out her tongue to lick at his tip. His hands slid into her hair and gripped at her scalp, mouth hanging open and features screwed up like the pleasure of her touch was excruciating.

“Cass, are you gonna fuck me or not?” Feyre rolled her eyes and Cassian’s eyes widened and he scrambled behind her. His knees were on either side of Azriel’s chest as Feyre bent over to suck Rhysand into her mouth, using her hand to pump the portion of him she couldn’t fit.

Cassian placed the head of his cock at her entrance as Azriel flicked his tongue against her clit. With orgasmic ease, Cassian slid deep inside of her with one push, due to how aroused she was. She moaned at the feeling of finally having something inside of her to satiate the ache.

“You feel so fucking good,” Cassian grunted as he slightly sped up his pace, gripping her hips to hit deeper with every push. Every time he pressed into her, he pushed Rhysand deeper into her mouth.

Rhys was a whining mess in front of her, looking at her with unbridled adoration as she took him into her mouth. The feeling of all three of them touching her threatened to make her explode. She’d wanted to tease them all for longer, but their attention just felt so much better.

“Too fucking tight,” Cassian hissed, slamming impossibly deeper. “Not gonna… fuck, not gonna last long.” Feyre hummed around Rhysand’s cock, making him whimper from deep in his throat.

“She just looks so pretty with my cock in her mouth,” Rhysand moaned, using his thumb to rub away the tears leaking down Feyre’s cheeks. “Fucking perfect angel on her knees for me.” Feyre preened under his gaze, forgetting all about her plans and falling into the moment. Rhysand grabbed the edge of her mask and pulled it off, smoothing down her hair to regrip in his fist.

“That was beyond hot,” he said, “but I wanna see you.”

Azriel sucked harder on her clit, and she cried out around Rhysand, making vibrations echo down his cock, which made him stiffen, panting as he shoved himself deeper down Feyre’s throat and spasming as he came.

“Pretty baby,” Rhysand praised. “Love watching you drink my cum like a good girl.” He used his thumb to wipe away the bit that was on her lips, pressing his thumb into her mouth and watching her suck it off, swallowing everything he had to give her.

“Fuck,” Cassian swore, feeling her tighten around him as Azriel coaxed her closer to the edge. Looking down and seeing him between her thighs, gripping them harshly as he ate her, was enough to send her toppling over the edge, taking Cassian right along with her, feeling him stiffen as he came inside her.

Feyre squeaked as she was quickly flipped onto her stomach, her hips hoisted in the air as Azriel put her exactly where he wanted her. He used his thumbs to spread her pussy open for him, watching Cassian’s cum begin to spill out of her.

He pressed himself into her, hitting even deeper than Cassian had, using his unforgiving grip on her hips to fuck her back onto himself, tossing his head back as he felt her wrap around him. He leaned over her back, placing a hand between her legs.

“Come for me one more time,” he begged. “You can do it, baby.”

“F-feels… so-so good,” Feyre moaned.

“I know, baby,” Az panted. “I know.”

She squeezed him so hard he thought he might have blacked out for a moment as she came with a scream. It immediately turned to a sob of pleasure as he refused to ease up on his stimulation of her clit, feeling her begin to squeeze him one more time before stilling as deeply inside of her as he could. Exhausted, he pulled out and collapsed onto the bed.

“Holy shit,” Azriel said, laughing in disbelief. “How are you still just as mouthwatering now as you were the very first time?”

“Make me feel like a fucking pre-teen, about to come in my pants just because you looked at me,” Cassian chuckled.

“What’d you think of being in control, Feyre darling?” Rhysand purred, fingers drawing lazy circles on her legs as he looked at her. He was so beautiful. It was so distracting.

“So good,” she nodded.

“As good as being at our mercy?” He raised a brow.

She chewed her lip.

“I’m not sure anything is as good as that,” she confessed.

He beamed.

“My good girl,” he praised, throwing her over his shoulder to take her to get cleaned up.

“Happy fucking birthday, Feyre,” Azriel chuckled, looking up at the ceiling still in disbelief.

Chapter Text

“Feyre darling, come here, please,” Rhysand called from his office as Feyre passed by. She furrowed her brow, slowly walking backward until she was in the doorway, looking at where Rhysand sat behind his desk, hair messy in the way it always was after he’d been working for a while. He tended to rake his hands through his hair when he was stressed.

“Yes?” Feyre asked, eyebrow raised.

“Here,” Rhysand barked, raising both brows in a challenge. Feyre groaned, trudging over to the side of Rhysand’s desk. She’d had a plan for her night, and it seemed that plan was now derailed. So much for watching a rom-com with wine and stuffing her face.

“Yes, master?” Feyre grumbled. Rhysand swatted her ass and she yelped, biting her bottom lip to hide her smirk. She secretly loved when she got him all riled up. He was fun to play with when he was mad. Plus, he fucked her that much harder.

“Once you hear your evening plans, you’re going to wish you were a bit nicer to me,” Rhysand said offhandedly, spinning his chair and parting his long legs to pull Feyre to stand in between them. His hands skated up her thighs to settle on her hips. She was wearing one of her more sheer white nightgowns, and she loved the way Rhysand’s eyes darkened as he took it all in.

“Am I?” Feyre goaded.

“Mmm,” he hummed. “You’re quite the brat today, aren’t you?” Feyre pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him playfully. He chuckled, shaking his head at her.

“Gonna spank me for it?” She said, wagging her eyebrows at him and playfully biting her lip again. Rhysand rolled his eyes, gripping her behind her knees and pulling her to straddle his lap. She inhaled the familiarly intoxicating scent of him and could have moaned.

“I’ve learned with you that spanking is not so much a punishment,” Rhysand chided, eyes sparkling with amusement as he took Feyre in, caressing her with his gaze.

“Damn,” Feyre griped. “I was hoping you’d never figure that one out.” Rhysand swatted her ass again and she gasped, coming nose to nose with him. They looked deep into each other’s eyes, the eye contact erotic in and of itself.

“You’re always soaked for me once I’m through with you,” Rhysand purred. “No, I must find more creative ways to punish a bad girl like you.” Feyre shivered, a breath passing her lips in a rush. It was true. She loved it when he spanked her. It was never the punishment he wanted it to be.

“Creative, huh?” Feyre asked, shoulders finding Rhysand’s shoulders and kneading his stiff muscles, loving the way they relaxed under her touch. She loved touching him. He was always just as responsive to her as he was the very first time.

“Mmm,” he hummed again. “Tonight will be a good start.” Feyre’s eyes widened and she furrowed her brows, looking at her Bonded suspiciously. The thought sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine, but also a tensing in her gut.

“Tonight?”

“You’ll be attending the High Lord’s meeting with Cassian, Azriel, and I.” He said plainly, as if that was a good enough explanation. What did a High Lord’s meeting have to do with her punishment? Unless he meant to bore her to death? Those meetings always droned on and on, Feyre’s eyes growing heavy as Beron brought up some shit she didn’t care about for the umpteenth time. The meeting had been called due to Tamlin’s… disappearance. The new Spring Court High Lord would be inducted. Since Tamlin had no living relatives, the estate was passed in his will to Lucien. Elain had been quite ecstatic about her new home and the flowers that enshrouded it.

“I’m not following,” Feyre sighed.

Rhysand tucked a stray hair behind Feyre’s ear, smiling at her lovingly.

“You really are quite beautiful, you know,” Rhysand murmured. Feyre caught his wrist with a small growl, holding it away from her face as she glared at him. He was toying with her, and she didn’t like it one bit. His mischief never meant anything good for her.

“Rhysand,” she said in a warning tone.

“Feyre darling,” he grinned back.

“What game are you playing?” She questioned him.

“I play lots of games. You’ll have to be more specific,” he said coyly.

“What are you planning for the High Lord’s meeting?” Feyre demanded. Rhysand’s grin widened, his eyes alight with wickedness. She was trying not to be terrified. Whatever he had planned would likely push her largely out of her comfort zone.

“Ah, yes,” he said, toying with a strand of her loosened hair. “That game.”

“Yes, that game,” Feyre growled. He nipped her neck with his teeth playfully at her tone and she sighed, fighting a smile herself.

“Oh, it’s a very fun game, Feyre darling,” he purred. “One I’ve created just for you.”

She glared at him, content to do so until he came out with whatever he was scheming, and he laughed. He pushed out his bottom lip in a faux pout and pulled her center closer to his, making her gasp at the feel of him between her legs. She would never get used to how good he felt.

“I have a gift for you,” Rhysand said, opening the top drawer to his desk. Feyre looked inside and found a pair of beautiful purple laced underwear. She blushed, reaching in to pull them out of his drawer, pushing it closed again. She held them up to the light, inspecting them, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. This was his big game? She was loathe to admit she was slightly disappointed.

“Pretty,” Feyre smiled politely. Rhysand lifted a brow.

Rhysand looked at the underwear, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows for one moment before the underwear erupted in vibrations, causing Feyre to gasp and drop them in her lap, mouth hanging open as she looked at Rhysand in shock. He threw his head back, laughing at the look on her face. He rubbed her thighs up and down lovingly.

“They’re magic,” he explained, his enjoyment still evident in his voice. “They’re charmed to make no noise. I control them. You will wear them to the meeting tonight. Your job is to keep anyone from noticing. Cassian and Azriel, too. I will be the only one who knows just how good you’re feeling between those pretty thighs, how dripping wet you are.” Feyre’s blush deepened and she felt lightheaded.

“But won’t they… you know… smell me?” Feyre winced. Rhysand rolled his eyes.

“Feyre darling, do you think me an amateur at shielding?” He asked, smug and arrogant as ever. Feyre chewed her bottom lip and picked the underwear back up now that the vibrations had ceased. She ran the elegant and soft fabric between her fingers.

“Okay,” Feyre nodded, unsure of what to say or do with herself.

“That doesn’t go for those pretty little sounds you make for me, though,” Rhysand smirked. “Those are entirely under your own control. If you do it successfully and make it through the meeting, I’ll let you come however you choose tonight. If you fail, you don’t come at all. You’re not to come during the meeting, am I clear?” Rhysand’s voice was stern towards the end, ever the dominate Illyrian male.

“Yes, sir,” Feyre croaked, her nerves getting the better of her.

“Good girl,” he purred, kissing her and lifting her from his lap, giving her one last swat on the ass to get her moving towards the door. She scampered to the entry way, but before she rounded the corner, Rhys spoke again. “And Feyre?” She turned to look at him over her shoulder. “Wear a skirt. No cheating,” he said, his voice like midnight silk. Well, fuck. Feyre was absolutely, totally, and completely fucked.

—--------------------------------------------------

Ready, my love?” Azriel asked, offering Feyre his arm. She eagerly took it, finding any excuse to be near her Illyrians. He led them down the hall, Rhys and Cass trailing behind until they rounded a few corners and reached Rhysand’s throne room. A large circle of chairs had been placed around the room, a set up meant to feel open and inviting for conversation rather than competitive arguments across tables.

Feyre rushed to claim a seat strategically, but Rhysand caught her arm. He sat Feyre at the end of the table, between Azriel and Cassian, and then rounded the room to sit across from her. With a perfect eyeline to her to watch her every movement. And he’d sat her between the two men in the room most attuned to her body language and arousal. Fuck. The court members sat on one side of the circle and the High Lords lounged their opposite, all in a line. The power of all of them was tangible in the room. Rhysand crossed his ankle over his knee and leaned back lazily in his chair, elbow resting on the arm of the chair, and fingers slyly covering his mouth.

Nervous, Feyre? Rhysand spoke into her mind, and she glared at him across the table where he was fighting an amused smile. The rest of the Courts and their representatives crowded around the table, exchanging pleasantries and handshakes.

No, you prick, Feyre growled back into Rhysand’s mind.

Is that so? He purred, and she swallowed hard, wondering why she’d goaded him. Perhaps I should up my game, then.

Feyre internally cursed herself, crossing her legs and glaring at her High Lord, who looked like he was having the best day of his life. Helion walked over to greet him, and he became distracted for the moment, taking his focus from her.

“You okay, mouse?” Cassian asked, his brows wrinkled in concern. She did her best to give him a reassuring smile but was watching Rhysand’s conversation with Helion in her periphery, terrified of the moment his attention would focus back on her.

“Of course,” Feyre nodded, smiling. Cassian’s eyes narrowed like he didn’t believe her, but he let it go. Thankfully. Breathe, she commanded herself. Just take a breath.

“Beron’s such a pompous bastard,” Azriel snarled under his breath to her, watching the way the Autumn Court’s High Lord moved like he was the centerpiece of the room, despite Rhysand clearly doubling him in power.

Doubling, huh? I love it when you praise me, my love, Rhysand’s voice re-entered her mind. Nosy bastard. Uncross your legs.

Feyre’s eyes darted up to his, seeing both of his brows raised in challenge, daring her to disobey him. Biting back a growl, she uncrossed her legs as he instructed, hating the way he had complete control of her in this moment. He’d yet to use the underwear to his advantage, but Feyre knew her mate well enough to know he was biding his time until the perfect moment.

All finally settled and they made introductions, outlining the plans for the meeting and falling into a monotonous lull in Feyre’s mind. She couldn’t focus on anything but how focused Rhysand seemed on everything but her. He nodded along to Kallias’ proposal, and it was as if he’d forgotten she was even there.

They were asked to stand momentarily while Tarquin recited some ancient, holy fae text. Feyre stood, yanking her skirt down from where it had ridden up. A violent increase of vibration between her legs made her knees buckle, tipping forward and catching herself un-elegantly on Cassian’s muscled arm. He looked at her like she’d lost her mind, helping her steady herself. She whispered an apology to him and stood upright, the vibrations now a dull buzz.

Smooth, Feyre, Rhysand laughed into her mind, and she cast him a glare in her periphery where he fought back his grin.

Tarquin finished, and they all sat back down. Feyre went to cross her legs but caught herself, her lips pressing into a hard line as she made herself uncross them immediately. The buzz between her legs made her hyper-aware of all of her senses. Azriel murmured some smartass comment to her under his breath, and she hadn’t paid enough attention to him to hear it so she just nodded and gave a silent laugh.

When it was Rhysand’s turn to speak, he looked a little too engaged for Feyre’s comfort. Rhysand lifted his hands as he spoke about war formations and borders, using his hands to demonstrate. With every flick upward of his hand, the strength of the vibrations against her center spiked, alternatively dulling when his hands moved toward the floor.

Feyre likely looked like she’d swallowed a fish. Luckily, Cassian and Azriel were too focused on Rhysand’s words, chiming in, when necessary, to notice Feyre’s odd behavior. Rhysand began to ‘fix his hair,’ which meant he upped the intensity against Feyre’s pussy as high as it would go, taking his time with ensuring every piece was perfectly in place. Feyre gripped the sides of her chair so hard her knuckles turned white.

Her stomach tightened at the feeling of ecstasy burning in her veins, and she focused every bit of her attention on pushing it back down, desperate to win this fight of dominance with Rhysand. She gritted her teeth, looking up at the ceiling to distract herself from the fact that Rhysand looked good enough to eat right now. If he wasn’t careful, she’d fuck him right here in front of everyone.

What a sight that would be, Rhysand chuckled in her mind.

You. Are. A. Prick. Feyre gritted out, her legs tensing and her body fighting the urge to lean forward, adding more pressure against herself.

Finally, just when Feyre thought she was going to explode, Rhysand finished fixing his hair and sat back down in his chair. The buzzing ceased entirely, allowing her a moment of peace. He looked at her with such arrogance that she wasn’t sure if she wanted to fight him or kiss him.

Were you going to come, Feyre? Rhysand demanded. Did I say you could come?

I didn’t, she squeaked back in her mind.

“You sure you’re feeling okay?” Cassian whispered back to Feyre. Azriel leaned forward, noticing the two of them conversating and caught sight of Feyre. “You’re sweating and flushed.” Oh, good gods. Feyre was going to kill Rhysand... right after she fucked him.

“What me to make soup and give cuddles after the meeting? The rest of my night is free,” Azriel offered. Feyre gave him a sweet smile and nodded, unsure of how else she could have possibly answered without hurting his feelings. He gave her a shy smile in return and focused his attention back on the meeting.

If it wasn’t clear, you will be quite occupied after the meeting, Rhysand spoke into her mind.

Is he not welcome? Feyre questioned.

I was feeling quite selfish but I’m sure it wouldn’t kill me to share if absolutely necessary, he sighed.

Greedy, Feyre purred.

Quite, he responded.

When I get my tongue between those pretty thighs, I’ll show you just how greedy I can be, Rhysand purred. Feyre bit her lip as she felt the vibrations returning against her pussy, squeezing her eyes shut as she adjusted to the sensation once again.

I’m soaked for you, Feyre said into his mind, changing her tactics. Rhysand coughed across the room. Feyre smirked. Wanna come check?

Careful, Feyre, Rhys warned.

Why should I be careful, Rhys? Feyre taunted. With zero hesitation, the vibrations were turned all the way back up to ten. Feyre whimpered before she could stop it, adjusting herself in her seat.

“You know, if you feel up to it later, I’ve been craving you all day,” Azriel leaned over and murmured to Feyre, his eyes hooded with lust. Feyre felt her blush deepen and her arousal multiply. She leaned forward in her seat, closing her eyes at how good the extra pressure felt.

“Have you?” She choked out.

“Had to stroke myself in the shower this morning to keep from waking you up,” Azriel confessed, shrugging. “You’re not particularly easy to ignore when you sleep naked like that and kick off the blankets because you’re hot.” Feyre chuckled.

“Next time, wake me up,” she whispered. Azriel smirked. Feyre squeezed her thighs together, feeling like the tightness in her stomach was going to consume her whole.

Legs apart, Feyre, Rhysand scolded. Feyre whined, twisting in her chair as she parted her legs.

Azriel looked at her, confused.

“Just uh… I just need to go pee,” Feyre lied, gulping slightly. Azriel raised a brow.

“You can go,” Azriel said, like he was unsure why she hadn’t. Well, she’d backed herself into a corner now, hadn’t she? She threw Rhysand a quick glance, but he didn’t seem to be paying attention. She cleared her throat, excusing herself as she slowly stood, yanked her skirt down, and walked as quickly as she could out of the throne room. She mentally cursed herself for not being able to control herself. Once she’d stood, Rhysand had killed the vibrations, and now, she could feel just how soaked she was.

She only made it halfway down the hallway before her back was slammed against the stone walls. She gasped, Rhysand’s lips capturing hers and stealing the noise before it even fully escaped. Feyre wrapped her arms around his neck, moaning into his mouth.

“Fuck, the sight of you coming apart in secret for me made me so fucking hard,” Rhysand groaned, reaching under Feyre’s thighs and lifting her so that her legs encircled his hips, slamming her back against the wall.

“I need you,” she whined, and he hummed in response, pulling away to kiss down her jaw to her neck. He sucked at her skin, nipping her gently with his teeth and using his hands on her ass to grind her center into him.

“Gods, I wanna feel that perfect pussy gripping me,” Rhys breathed out against her neck.

“Please,” Feyre begged, desperation leaking into her voice.

“Okay,” Rhysand panted, moving to walk down the hallway. Feyre gripped the front of his shirt to stop him. He looked confused.

“No,” she whined. “I can’t wait. Fuck me now.”

Rhysand swore under his breath, pressing her back against the wall again.

“You want me to fuck you right here where anyone could walk out and see?” Rhys moaned, grinding the hard ridge of himself against her cunt, her underwear gliding across her clit from how absolutely soaked she was.

“Rhys, I need you,” she moaned. He swore, holding her up with one arm as he moved to try and undo his belt. Her hands moved to help him, the struggle ending quick, and his cock being freed at record speed.

He lined himself up and thrust into her and they both gripped each other tight, faces red and breathing rushed. He moaned as he pulled out slightly and pushed back in, the lack of resistance being clear proof of how badly she’d wanted him.

“You feel,” Rhys said through ragged breaths, “so fucking good.”

Feyre’s hand found the back of Rhysand’s neck, digging in her nails as she tugged at his hair, pressing her lips back to his with feverish need. He fucked her against the wall, the two of them not even being mindful of how loud they were being. They needed each other too much to be careful.

“Gods, the idea of stuffing you full of my cock and feeling you leak out all over me like this while I'm meant to be in a meeting is so hot that I already want to come,” Rhys groaned, tipping his head back slightly. Feyre kissed at his exposed neck, dragging more expletives out of him.

“I love the way you feel inside me,” Feyre agreed. Rhysand continually pumped in and out of her, the sound of their meeting wet and addicting. He pressed her harder into the wall, snapping his hips with more force. He was so deep she could feel him in her stomach and felt like she was going to explode.

Her legs tightened around him, limiting his range of motion and forcing her to grind against her as deeply as he fit, hitting the perfect spot that made her eyes roll back into her head. The angle he had was unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

“Don’t stop,” she cried out, “please, gods, don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.” Rhys hissed at how tight she was getting, beads of sweat forming on his forehead and making his raven hair stick to his skin in a delicious way.

“I own this tight little cunt,” he growled. “You’re fucking mine.” He was fucking her so hard that she was drawing ragged breaths, her mouth hanging open and eyes squeezed shut and she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him as close as he could possibly go.

“I’m gonna come,” Feyre writhed under his touch.

“Fuck, me too,” Rhys said through gritted teeth. “Come with me, pretty girl. Milk my cock and take all of me. Every part of me is yours.” He thrust deep a few more times before he stilled deep inside of her, his cock twitching as he pumped his cum deep in her pussy. She pulsated around him, taking every drop inside of her as she placed their foreheads together and they shared breath as they both came down.

“That was so good,” Feyre smiled, still breathing heavy.

“You little fucking assholes,” Feyre heard an accusing voice down the hall say. Feyre panicked, Rhysand still pressed deep inside her, but calmed he moment she realized it was Azriel. “I knew something was up.”

“Az,” Feyre whined. “Come here.” Azriel wasted no time obliging her. Feyre’s hand caught the back of Az’s neck, pulling him in closer and kissing him, running her tongue along his bottom lip. He opened his mouth for her and she slid her tongue in, fucking his mouth with hers.

He hummed into her touch, entirely pleased. Azriel was so skilled with his tongue. The way he licked the inside of her mouth made her pulsate around Rhys, who looked like his knees might give out any second. Once he could take no more stimulation, he pulled out of her, pulling her underwear back into position, his cum soaking them even more.

He sat Feyre down on her feet, but that lasted no time before she dropped to her knees in front of Azriel. His eyes widened and he swore under his breath. Feyre almost couldn't believe her own boldness, but he didn't seem to want to argue. He leaned forward, placing both hands on the wall as she undid his belt buckle eagerly, biting her lip in anticipation. Once she freed him, she circled her tongue around the tip, massaging him with her mouth.

“Such a good fucking girl,” Azriel whined. She reached a hand between her legs, gathering some of her slick to bring back to his cock, lubricating him with the mix of Feyre and Rhys’ cum. He bucked his hips into her hands as she worked him, sucking ferociously at his tip. He was making little whimpering noises and she allowed her eyes to roll back again, moaning around his cock in her mouth.

“Watching you two is gonna make me hard again,” Rhys griped. Feyre held on to Azriel’s hips, taking him as deep as she could into her mouth, holding him for a few seconds and feeling herself swallow around him before pulling him out, taking a breath, and then repeating the action.

Rhys stood behind Azriel, tilting his head so he could kiss and suck at Azriel’s neck. Azriel moaned, shivering at the feel of Rhys and Feyre’s mouths on him. Rhys tugged Azriel’s ear lobe between his teeth, murmuring something in his ear that Feyre couldn’t fear, but knew it must have been good because Azriel’s entire body shuddered.

She wrapped her fist tighter around his cock and licked and sucked at his head until he was spilling into her mouth. He watched with darkened eyes and parted lips. Once he finished, he pulled himself out of her mouth. She stuck out her tongue, covered in his cum, and stood to grab the back of Rhys’ neck, making sure to keep eye contact with Azriel as she pressed her tongue against Rhysand’s, both of them moaning at his taste and swapping it between their mouths feeling it dribble down their chins.

They quickly resituated themselves, Rhysand using magic to make them look less rumpled, and the three walked back into the High Lord’s meeting as if nothing had happened. They got a few weary looks but nothing too concerning. Once Feyre sat down next to Cassian, she felt his large hand harshly squeeze her thigh, turning to look at her.

“You fucking owe me,” he growled. He looked to Azriel then Rhysand and then back to Feyre. “All of you owe me. Big time.” Feyre blushed, biting her bottom lip and nodding, wondering how the hell she was supposed to take it through the rest of this meeting knowing Cassian was likely to throw her over his shoulder and take her back to their room to do as he pleased the moment that the guests had left.

Chapter Text

Cassian had always been a heavy sleeper. It was something Feyre picked up on quite quickly when she’d needed him to wake up and get dressed so they could go to the market in Velaris. Cass was grumpy when he had to wake up early on his off days. But this morning, none of them had any obligations at all, and the thought of that had Feyre feeling adventurous.

So, when Cass rolled onto his back, murmuring in his sleep, an idea struck her. She bit her lip to hold back her excitement as she watched him sleep. Cass turned his head to the side, maneuvering his hips in an attempt to get comfy. Rhys turned onto his other side behind her, asleep and entirely unaware of what Feyre was planning.

Cass’s lips parted and a ragged breath escaped. He groaned, getting restless in his sleep. Was he dreaming? Feyre smirked. All the more fun. She slowly crawled out from under their blanket, careful not to wake anyone up. She positioned herself between Cassian’s legs. She gasped when she saw that he was already hard.

He stirred in his sleep, moaning quietly as he moved his hips again. Holy gods. Was he having a sex dream? Feyre slowly pulled the blanket down, exposing Cassian’s perfect chest. She placed a hand on either side of his torso, leaning up and over him. She slowly lowered her mouth to his skin, right on the side of his rib cage. His breath hitched but he made no other movements. She kissed the center of his chest. No reaction.

Deciding she could be as forward as she wanted to be, she slowly pressed her tongue to his nipple, swirling it and sucking it into her mouth gently. Cassian’s hips rocked, seeking friction even in his sleep. Feyre chuckled, moving to repeat her actions on his other nipple. Azriel stirred and she froze, waiting for him to fall back asleep. When she was sure he was, she moved again.

She slowly kissed down his torso, his hips rutting occasionally as he sighed, still deep in his dream. When she reached his navel, she grinned, knowing she was nearing the best part. She licked a path slowly down the light trail of hair that disappeared into his boxer shorts, pausing at the waistband.

He was ridiculously hard already. Feyre traced a finger lightly over his cock, still protected by his boxers, and bit her lip at the way it reflexively jumped under the fabric. She applied more pressure on the next pass. He grinded against her hand, moaning in his sleep. She gripped him fully and he whimpered.

Instinctively, his hand knotted in her hair. Feyre grinned as she wondered what he was dreaming about. She kissed the tip over his boxers, and he groaned. She was having so much fun entertaining herself that she hadn’t realized Azriel had rolled over and was watching her. Her cheeks burned as she made eye contact with the shadowsinger.

The corner of Azriel’s lip curled into a smirk as he raised a brow, signaling for her to continue what she had been doing. Feyre allowed her fingers to trace the elastic waistband of his boxers, occasionally dipping her fingers inside. After she had adequately teased him. She pulled them down just enough so that his cock sprang free, resting against his stomach. Azriel’s eyes looked dazed as he watched.

Again, Feyre traced a finger down his cock and Cass whined. She looked up, making eye contact with Azriel as she wrapped her hand around his cock, pulling it to her. Still watching Azriel’s reaction and the way his breath caught between his parted lips, she slid her tongue in a circle around the head of Cassian’s cock.

Cass murmured something unintelligible in his sleep, but Feyre was too far in to be worried about it now. She sucked Cassian into her mouth, massaging her tongue against the underside of his cock as she closed her lips around him. His hand that was knitted in her hair pushed her head down so that she took more of him. She hummed and he stirred, blinking down at her as he woke up to realize she’d had his cock in her mouth while he was dreaming.

“Fuck,” he groaned. His hips bucked and he shoved Feyre’s head even farther onto himself. “Feels so good, gods.” Rhys turned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he looked them all over, eyes widening at where Feyre still had Cass shoved deep in her throat, pulling him out and back in with a rhythm.

Azriel leaned over, attaching his lips to Cassian’s neck. Cassian groaned. It was a deep, rumbling sound as Azriel flicked his tongue across Cassian’s skin. Watching with lust-filled eyes, Rhysand slowly leaned in to follow suit and began sucking on the opposite side of Cassian’s neck.

Feyre pulled off of Cassian’s cock, watching the three of them writhe together as Cassian moaned. Feyre pumped him in her hand, the glide of her spit making it easy work. Her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head at the sounds he was making for her. For them all.

Deciding she couldn’t wait any longer, Feyre crawled further up Cassian’s lap, positioning her knees on either side of his hips. She gripped his cock, dragging the head through her arousal and he shuddered when he realized what she was doing. She positioned him correctly and slowly sank down onto him. She gasped and sighed in relief at how fully he filled her. He hit so deep inside of her that she was already spasming around him, which drug obscenities from his lips.

Rhys pulled back from Cassian’s neck to claim his mouth. Azriel began to kiss down Cass’s chest, paying as much attention to his nipples as Feyre had. Cassian was utterly coming apart at the seams.

“Gods, you feel so good,” Feyre moaned, circling her hips atop him. “You fill me so deep. I just can’t get enough of you. You’re being such a good boy for us, honey.” Cassian moaned into Rhysand’s mouth.

“Such a good boy,” Rhys murmured against his lips.

Feyre lifted herself off of him and sank back down, feeling the euphoric glide of him inside of her. He felt heavenly. She wasn’t lying when she said she couldn’t get enough of him. She picked up her pace, not being gentle anymore as she fucked him exactly how he liked. His hands found her hips and pulled her down impossibly harder onto himself.

Feyre cried out, grinding down on to Cassian’s cock as she felt herself tighten around him, constricting the blood flow and working him up towards his release. The moment her orgasm crested and began to fade, Azriel gripped her hips roughly, sitting her to the side as he situated himself between Cassian’s legs, circling his tongue around the hyper-sensitive tip of Cassian’s cock.

“Sorry Fey,” Azriel groaned. “You had your fun. Now I want mine.” Cassian shivered and goosebumps covered his flesh. His hand lifted, palming Rhys through his sleep shorts. Rhys whined into Cassian’s mouth, their tongues playing with each other.

Feyre hummed, watching Azriel suck Cassian, moaning at the taste of her on his skin. She reached under his hips and signaled for him to lift them. He obeyed as he panted, his mouth leaving Cassian for a moment as he watched Feyre slide her hand into his shorts, gripping him tightly in her fist.

“Please,” Azriel whined as she slowly started to stroke him. Feyre bit her lip and pulled her hand out of his shorts. He whimpered at the loss but moaned when he saw her spit into her hand and re-wrap her hand around him. He impatiently shoved his shorts off, giving her better access to all of him as he went back to work on Cassian.

Rhys hissed and Feyre looked to see Cassian’s mouth wrapped around him. She worked Azriel faster and harder as he sucked harder on Cassian. They were a mess of moans and whines. Cassian came first, being unable to hold off any longer despite his best efforts.

Azriel pulled his mouth off and stroked him as he watched Cassian's cum land on his stomach. Once he was finished, Az pushed Feyre back, placing his hips in the cradle between hers and giving no warning before he slammed into her to the hilt in one motion.

Feyre screamed, throwing her head back as Az attached his lips to her neck. Rhys started coming and Cassian pulled off his mouth, jerking Rhys's cock until his cum also landed on Cassian’s stomach. Rhys collapsed, panting, and the other two watched as Feyre squeezed around Azriel, making him twist his eyes shut and groan. The sound of Rhys’s orgasm drove Feyre over the edge, and she came harder than she could ever remember coming.

Azriel made a noise somewhere between a cry and a whimper as he quickly pulled out of her, his hand gliding fiercely up and down on his cock as he angled himself properly, coming on Cassian’s stomach as he watched with parted lips.

“How about that for owing you?” Az laughed breathlessly. “Now come take a shower so I can do it again. I’m not done with you yet.”

Chapter Text

eyre was in the corner of the library when Rhysand found her. The corner of his mouth twitched upward as he watched her being so immersed in another world that she’d not even noticed his presence yet. He wondered where she was right now, what she was seeing. He wanted to be there with her, wherever she was. Would give anything to unravel her mind and memorize it all to know every part of her there was to know.

“You’re always prettiest when you lose yourself like this,” he smiled at her and she gasped, nearly jumping out of her own skin. When she saw him, she giggled, marking her place in her book and rushing to jump on him, wrapping her legs around his middle and pressing sweet, loving kisses all over his face. Rhys scrunched his nose and closed his eyes as he felt her kiss his cheeks, forehead, nose, and finally his lips.

He groaned, knotting his hand at the base of her head, twisting her hair around his fingers to get a good grip. She opened her mouth for him, and he pushed his tongue inside, relishing the familiar sweet taste of her on his tongue. It felt like it’d been forever since he’d had her all to himself. He’d missed her.

“Hi, Feyre Darling,” he smirked against her lips. She hummed in delight, kissing him deeper and with more fervor. His hands supported her from underneath her ass, highly aware of how close his hands were to being up her skirt. When she wore those damned skirts, he nearly lost his mind. It made him want to bend her over and fuck her on a library table. It was a delightful thought, and he tucked it in the back of his mind as an idea for later.

“Hi, Rhys,” she purred. “You’re done working early.”

“I had something I wanted to show you,” he grinned, and she felt her pulse quicken. She always loved Rhysand’s surprises. She wrapped her arms tighter around his neck and hugged him, burying her face in his neck. She squeaked when she felt him start to move.

“No! My book!” She pointed behind him, trying to not leave behind the book she’d been buried in for hours, but he was set on a mission, and told her he’d come back for it later. She groaned, holding on tight as she felt him walking them up and back into the House.

He walked down a wing of the House they very rarely frequented, and he could sense Feyre’s stiffening when she realized he hadn’t gone where she’d expected him to. His smirk widened as he got a secret joy from knowing he could still surprise her like this, could still excite her. Their trysts never seemed to get old no matter how many times they snuck off together like greedy teenagers.

“Where are you taking me,” she said, sounding paranoid. He chuckled.

“Something I’ve been working on for us,” he shrugged. “I wanted to have you all to myself when I showed it to you.” He could feel how hard her heart was beating, and it thrilled him like nothing else ever could. She was delicious, and even the scent of her lingering around him was driving him insane.

Rhys kicked open a door rather deep into the hall, and Feyre’s eyes bulged in her head as she took it all in. He watched her assess her surroundings with a sick kind of satisfaction. He loved that innocent doe-eyed look she always got in her eyes right before he absolutely destroys her. To watch those baby blues looking up at him as he thrusted into her throat or limited her air flow with his hands.

“Holy shit, Rhys,” she breathed, and he preened under her attention and praise. He sat her on her feet and allowed her to explore the room he’d spent ample amounts of time daydreaming up. The room was absolutely covered in mirrors and midnight blue silk, even the ceiling was a reflection of the floor. A giant bed was in the center of the room, but it wasn’t a normal bed. This one had loops stitched all along the edges for bondage. The canopies draped around it made it look sultry and luxurious.

In the corner there were displays with various toys they’d yet to venture into but immediately caught her eyes. There were short whips, feathers, blindfolds and binds, vibrators that did different things, and a lot of things Feyre had never even seen before. He’d created a sex palace for them. She looked back at him with such a wicked glimmer in her eyes that he nearly took her then and there. But no, he’d been waiting much too long for this to be in any hurry for it to end.

Rhys walked to one of the leather chairs he’d placed in random places around the room, for viewing convenience. Feyre stood in the middle of the room, her breath caught in her throat as she looked at him, a red flush blossoming on her cheeks. It made his cock twitch in his pants. Gods, he worshipped his High Lady.

“Undress,” he commanded, and she gasped, immediately stiffening and standing up straighter. He fought the urge to grin at her. She was just so godsdamned cute. But that was not the plans he had for their night. No, he wanted to dominate her right now. Wanted her on her knees and begging, tears streaming from her eyes as she became so overwhelmed with pleasure that her body couldn’t contain it all.

She bit her lip and started to obey, taking her time to remove layers, just as he liked. He tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair as he watched her slowly unclothe herself. Once she’d stripped her top and bra, she unzipped and shimmied out of her skirt, and he palmed himself through his pants at the sight of her. She turned, looking over her shoulder at him with a sly wink before she leaned to push her panties down her legs, not bending her knees and making sure he got a fantastic view of her glistening heat. Gods, he was going to destroy her. He felt like he had so much pent-up energy saved for her, and having her here now, alone, was the perfect time to unleash it all. He planned to plunge into depravity and embrace it.

“There’s my good girl,” he cooed. “Eager to please for me today, baby? You just wanna make daddy feel good, don’t you, honey?” He saw goosebumps unfurl across her skin, making her arm hair stand on end. She shivered as she looked at him patiently.

“Yes,” she breathed, and he hummed. He loved when she was obedient and perfect like this, but he secretly hoped she unleashed her fire the more he provoked her. And oh, he planned to. He’d edge her to the gods just to hear that desperate pleading whimper that nearly made him cum in his pants every time he heard her make it.

“Kneel for me, baby,” he demanded, and she eagerly obliged, sitting on her heels as she straightened her back, bowing her head slightly and leaving her palms face up on her thighs. She was so pretty like this, so nervous and aroused.

Rhys stood from his chair, walking behind Feyre to the display, where she couldn’t see what it was that he was grabbing. It made her breathing hitch. She loved the anticipation of it all. The build-up sometimes excited her more than anything else, and Rhysand knew just how to provide her with it.

He picked up a riding crop with one hand, twirling it between his fingers as he sauntered back over to where she knelt. She gasped when the riding crop found the bottom of her spine and traced a line up her back slowly, crawling over her shoulder and down to lightly brush her nipples, which made her suck in a breath through her teeth.

“Do you know why I covered this room in mirrors, Feyre?” He asked, cocking up a brow. She placed the riding crop under her chin, using it to lift her head until her eyes met his. She swallowed.

“I don’t,” she admitted.

Rhys smirked, smacking the riding crop against her cheek.

“Because, my love, I wanted to always show and remind you just how fucking pretty you look when you’re struggling to take my cock deep inside of you. Whether it’s you gagging on it or I’m making that pretty pussy feel good with it, you always look best when my cock’s inside you.” Feyre’s pupils dilated in a way that made me want to ravage her.

“I want to watch,” she blushed.

“That’s my perfect girl,” he praised, and she preened.

The riding crop traced across the tops of her breasts, making passes so gentle they ignited every nerve ending in her body. Then he smacked both sides of her breast with it, watching the way the small flashes of pain lit her body up like it was a livewire.

“I want you to climb up on that bed for me, Feyre,” he instructed softly. “I want you to lay on your back and wait for me to give you further instructions.” She bit her lip excitedly, immediately obeying his every request. Gods, she was eager tonight, and it was going to be the death of him.

“Yes, sir,” she gently murmured.

Rhys looked smug and self-indulgent as he peeled his shirt off, baring his muscled, tattooed chest to her and watching the way her eyes widened. He loved the way she looked at him. It made him feel electricity buzzing in his bones. She just did it for him in a way no one else ever had.

He walked to her head and gripped one wrist, pulling it to the top left corner and securing it to the mattress. He did the same with her other wrists, and then progressed down to her feet, securing her splayed open wide for the taking. Her chest was quickly rising and falling, and he was eating up every single bit of her squirminess and arousal.

“You love this, don’t you?” He mocked. “You love when I order you around and take control away from you. You like being tied up and stuffed full of my cock. Your cunt is dripping, and I haven’t even touched you yet. My naughty girl.” Feyre arched her back slightly, like she was already desperate for his touch, and he ate it up.

His fingers ghosted on the sides of her ribs, and her breathing turned raspy and uneven. He used his knuckles to gently brush the side of her breast, but nowhere close to where she needed him. She was already yanking at the binds, and he was just getting started. She would be a weeping, drooling mess for him by the end. He’d be sure of it.

He lifted the riding crop again, tracing it between the center of her breasts and down her belly until he lifted, landing a sharp smack to her exposed pussy that made her cry out. The corner of his mouth twitched. He did it again, and she cried out just the same. He loved the noises she made when he was making her feel good.

Trading out the riding crop for the feather, he decided if she wanted him mean, he’d be borderline evil in his teasing. He brought the feather to trace over her nipples, and she arched, trying to increase the friction, but failing miserably. She whimpered, and he descended the same line down her belly, but this time moved back and forth across her lower abdomen, going no lower. He watched as her skin twitched at the sensation with a sick fascination.

He dragged the feather across her clit, and her head shot up, eyes wide as she looked at what he was doing. Her mouth opened in ecstasy as she tipped her head back with a low moan as he continued to flick her clit with the feather.

“Rhys,” she pleaded. “Gods, please.”

“Aw, but I’m just getting started, Feyre,” he smiled sweetly. “You’ll have to beg so much harder than that if you want me to fuck you.” She groaned, writhing on the bed. A beautiful sight. Very well worth all the trouble.

“Please,” she whimpered, but he didn’t respond. He went back to teasing her nipples so gently that it had to be infuriating. He teased her until she was getting angry and switched his tactics.

Rhys pulled out a bullet vibrator and Feyre’s bones nearly went liquid with the relief that registered in her eyes at the sight. He gave her a sadistic smile, wickedness glimmering in his deep violet eyes.

“Oh, did you think you were going to cum now?” He mocked her, and she growled, a single tear falling from the side of her eye and trailing down into her ear. She had such pretty tears. She was going to be shedding quite a few more before he was done with her.

With absolutely no warning, he turned the vibrator to full power and pressed it directly on her clit. She gasped, her toes curling and eyes squeezing shut as she adjusted to the new and intense sensation. She took deep breaths, finally settling into the pleasure. Once she started gyrating her hips, he knew it felt good, so he pulled it off.

“Rhys,” she growled. “You’re being mean.”

He feigned innocence.

“I don’t think I’m being mean,” he said with a sappy smile. She narrowed her eyes at him and could tell he was fighting back a grin. He tried to hide how much fun he was having when he edged her, but it was always so obvious how much he loved when she begged for him.

She opened her mouth to speak again, but before she could, he placed the vibrator back on her clit, applying slight pressure this time. Her eyes rolled back into her head and her mouth fell back open as he watched her muscles tighten in pleasure as she moaned, desperate and breathy sounds that he wanted to save and replay forever.

“Feels good, huh, pretty girl?” He purred, using his hand to gently brush strands of hair out of her face as he comfortingly shushed her, pressing kisses to her cheeks and nose. She moaned deep and low, and he could tell she was getting close to coming.

“Please let me come,” she cries out, and she sounds so sad that he nearly gives in.

“You can hold it for me, can’t you?” He asks sweetly, brushing the back of his hand across her cheek, loving the deep blush stained there. She squeezes her eyes shut and nods curtly. “Don’t come yet, Feyre, I haven’t given you permission.”

Rhys presses the vibrator harder into her clit and she grits her teeth, and right before he knew she was going to cave, he takes it away completely. She looks up at him with absolutely murderous eyes, and it sends a shiver down his spine.

“Rhysand,” she growls in warning, and he turns so she can’t see his smile.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” he soothes her, and finally returns the vibrator to her clit again, watching the way her back immediately arches as she struggles to gulp down enough air. “Come for me now, Feyre. You love to do that, don’t you? To come just for me? Let me hear how good it feels.”

Feyre squeaked and moaned, giving one final cry as she came, her entire body coated in a layer of sweat and spent from the constant state of teasing she’d been in since they made it into this room. But Rhysand was straining against his pants and losing patience. The sopping wet mess between her legs looked all to inviting to keep ignoring, especially with her held so perfectly open for him to slide his cock inside.

“Are you ready for me, Feyre?” He asked, arching a brow as he unfastened and unzipped his trousers, shoving them down his incredibly toned legs and freeing his length. He stroked himself at the sight of her opened up for his taking.

“Please fuck me,” she sobbed, and tears were running freely from the corners of her eyes now, and it was just so godsdamned pretty that he couldn’t resist anymore and climbed up between her legs. She moaned as he slid the head of his cock through her slick. She looked over his shoulder at the sight of the ceiling, which was a big mirror projecting back up to her the image of him about to fuck her.

“Fuuuuuuck,” he whimpered as he pushed himself into her, feeling her stretch around his length. He hissed in pleasure, burying himself to the hilt and stilling for a few moments to catch his breath before he pulled out halfway and plunged back in, the sloppy sound of how wet she was sounding utterly pornographic.

“You f-feel… s-so good,” Feyre panted heavily, yanking at her bindings desperately like she was dying to touch him. And gods if it didn’t get him going even more. He quickly undid her binds and moaned into her mouth when she gripped the sides of his head and smashed her lips to his with greedy desperation.

Rhys reached under Feyre’s thighs, lifting them onto his shoulders as he picked up his pace and fervor, slamming into her even deeper than before, making her groan and dig her nails into his lower back, trying to take him impossibly deeper. She was so perfect for him, so sexually compatible that it was sick.

“Wanna die buried in this cunt,” he growled, fucking her rougher, turning his head and suckling and biting at her inner thighs as he pressed them closer and closer to her chest. “Need to have you to myself like this more, fuck.”

“Please,” Feyre whimpered. “I love having this time with you.”

“I love you,” he said, their noses touching as they breathed each other’s air, both intoxicated by the glide of Rhys’s cock in and out of Feyre’s drenched pussy. They gasped and moaned in tandem as he pressed his forehead against hers.

“I love you and I need you,” she wailed. “Please give me your cum. I need you to fill me up with you and how much you love fucking me.” Rhys hissed like he was in so much pleasure that it was painful.

“Fuck, I love it when you talk dirty to me,” he whimpered, and she moaned.

“Fuck your cum so deep in me that I’ll never fully get rid of the feel of you plunging deep inside me,” she begged, and his pace became messy and sloppy, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

Evidently, so did she, because her cunt began to pulsate tightly around him, and he could feel her cresting orgasm right as his did the same, the two of them unbelievably in sync. He poured his cum deep in her and moaned into her mouth as they both came so hard that they lost a few senses for a few seconds.

“Fuck,” he repeated eventually, pulling out of her and watching as he dragged his cum with him, mouth open and cheeks flushed. He grinned down at the mess he’d made of her. She looked exhausted, and so was he.

He took her back to their bedroom to take care of his girl properly, making sure she felt loved and pampered before he finally tucked her freshly showered body between the blankets and crawled in behind her. He handed her the book he'd ran back to the library to grab for her as she showered and she gave a happy hum, kissing his cheek. He began drawing lazy patterns on the inside of her arms as she drifted off to sleep. But all he could think about was how much potential his new room had for bringing in Az and Cass, too. The corner of his mouth twitched upward in an evil grin.

Chapter Text

“It’s too much,” Feyre groaned, leaning back into her chair with a huff. She sat at dinner with her Bonded, all enjoying a meal together after what had been a terrible week. Everything Feyre had planned had fallen through, and everything irritated her to an intense degree. She was so touchy and on edge and had no way to make herself relax.

As soon as she would do something meant to help calm herself, her thoughts would spiral right back to that dark place in her mind, where everything fell apart. She knew she was likely approaching her cycle or something. That was the only time she ever felt this overwhelmed for no apparent reason.

“What is?” Cassian asked, shoveling a fork-full of pasta into his mouth as he watched her aimlessly rake her fork through her own. She hadn’t had much of an appetite lately. She was restless, and no amount of effort was expelling the tension.

“Everything,” Feyre shook her head. “All of it.”

“You’ve been tense, Feyre darling,” Rhys frowned. “I wish you would talk to me- us- about it.” Azriel nodded in agreement. Feyre chewed her lip. She didn’t know what was wrong with her, though. That was the issue.

“I can’t explain it,” she admitted. “I just can’t get out of my own head.”

The boys all exchanged a look that made Feyre’s stomach flip.

“You know,” Rhys began with a sleepy smile. “I have an idea on how to help.”

Feyre’s breath caught as Rhysand’s fingertips ghosted up her thigh from underneath the table. Azriel’s eyes darkened as he watched the blush creep into her cheeks. Her body felt like a livewire. It seemed the sensitivity had transferred to her skin as well. Her body felt hot with need.

“Please help,” Feyre begged.

“Pretty girls get what they want,” Azriel said from across the table.

“I want all of you,” Feyre said breathily.

“Then you’ll have us,” Rhys assured. Pushing his chair back from the dinner table, he scooped Feyre up into his arms, and she heard the rustling of the other two males immediately following. Feyre felt dizzy when she saw where Rhysand was taking her. He was taking her back to the room he’d made- just for them to play in.

Once in the room, Rhysand sat Feyre on her feet, instructing her to undress as the three of them did the same. When they were naked, he placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down onto her knees. She did as he was asking, looking up at him through her lashes. He caressed the side of her face before walking to the opposite side of the room, opening a drawer and rustling around inside. Azriel and Cassian circled her like prey, and she could already feel herself getting lost in this moment- in these males.

Rhysand came behind her, gripping her jaw roughly.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded, and she obliged. He slid a thick strip of fabric between her teeth, pulling it tight and tying it behind her head. Her mouth was forced open, and she couldn’t make words without sounding muffled and wrong.

“That’s a good girl, Feyre,” Rhys praised, releasing her jaw. She whimpered behind the fabric, but they paid her no mind. “Hands behind your back.” Feyre listened and Rhysand secured ties around her hands, holding them together at the small of her back.

“Now we need you to stand up and bend over on the side of the bed,” Cassian instructed, helping her get to her feet. She walked to the bed and bent over the side, resting her face against the soft mattress, the edge of the bed digging into her hips. Feyre fought against the ties around her wrists, but they didn’t budge.

“Such pretty little prey,” Azriel smirked, walking to the wall that held the crops and floggers. He picked one that was smaller and softer, walking over to stand behind her once more. His hands gripped her ass, kneading the flesh and spreading her open for his viewing.

Feyre whined and tried to speak, but it came out gargled. Azriel chuckled.

“I’m going to make you forget, Feyre,” Azriel purred. “All you’ll be able to think about after this is us and the ways we can make you feel.” Feyre moaned behind her gag, drool soaking into the fabric already.

Feyre gasped and stiffened as the flogger smacked her ass, leaving behind a red mark and sting. Feyre squeezed her eyes shut as hands soothed the hurt. She could feel herself already getting wet, and already forgetting what she must have been so upset about to begin with. No, now all that existed was her Bonded and this room.

“I’m going to use you however I want to, tonight, Feyre,” Azriel cooed. “This sweet little body is ours for the taking. We are going to use you like a sex doll for our own pleasure.” Feyre moaned, hating the way their degradation set her on fire.

The flogger smacked her ass again, this time harder. Feyre squeaked in surprise. Wetness pooled between her legs, and she knew that if she could have, she would have already been begging by now for them to fuck her.

Feyre nearly jumped out of her skin when the flogger smacked between her legs, making her pussy sting for a few moments before the sensation faded. Feyre heard the flogger drop as Cassian went to his knees behind her. She groaned, wiggling her ass and silently begging to be touched.

Cassian gripped her ass, spreading her wide. He used his thumbs to spread her pussy lips, cursing at how wet and ready she already was. She could have purred under his touch. His huge, rough hands on her skin did dirty things to her body.

“Perfect fucking pussy,” Cassian murmured, burying his tongue inside of her. She moaned deep in her throat as he pressed his tongue inside of her. His mouth was so hot and wet and perfect that her knees went weak. She pressed her hips back into his face and he eagerly appeased her need, pushing his tongue impossibly deeper, flicking it inside of her.

Azriel lit a candle, walking to Feyre’s side so that she could see him with the way her head was turned and arms were tied. Her cunt pulsed around Cassian’s tongue as she realized what was about to happen here. Azriel arched a brow at her, confirming this was okay. Feyre nodded and he gave her a sadistic grin, stepping forward.

Cassian continued to feast on her cunt, making her legs shake. Azriel leaned the candle to the side, and Feyre hissed as the hot sting of wax trickled between her shoulder blades, hardening as it cooled. The pain mixed with the feeling of Cassian’s tongue inside of her was euphoric. She sighed happily as she closed her eyes, focusing on the sensations in her body.

When Azriel began pouring more wax in a slow trail down Feyre’s spine, Cassian moved to suckle on her clit, flicking his tongue with quick precision. Feyre cried out, biting down on the gag and squeezing her eyes shut. It took no time for her to be a whimpering desperate mess, coming all over Cassian’s tongue as she fought against the binds holding her hands in place. The euphoric rush of her orgasm dulled the ache forming in her arms.

“I love tasting you come,” Cassian growled, using the flat of his palm to strike her ass again. Tears leaked from the corner of Feyre’s eyes and down onto the bed. Cassian stood up behind her, and her cum was nearly dripping down her legs in arousal.

Cassian fisted his cock, pumping himself a few times before he began to slowly rub the head of his cock up and down her slit. She writhed, desperate for him to push inside of her, but he just teased her opening with his cock. He rubbed himself against her clit and she sobbed through her gag, drool dripping onto the table.

“Now take this cock like my good little whore,” Cassian snarled, slamming himself into her, fully to the hilt. She screamed, the sound mixing with a muffled cry. He filled her so completely. She could feel him deep in her stomach. He rocked his hips, massaging deep inside of her cunt.

She moaned and he gripped her wrists, holding the tie and using it as reigns to fuck her harder, faster. He lifted her arms, slightly pulling her chest from the bed and making the angle he was pushing into her at so much more intense. He somehow felt even deeper. She spasmed around him and he swore through gritted teeth.

“So fucking tight… just want to ruin you,” he panted as he continued to fuck her. She was so wet that the sounds of his cock gliding in and out were obscene.

“You look so pretty getting fucked so dirty,” Azriel soothed her, pushing her hair back out of her face and off of her neck, where it had been sticking to her skin with sweat. Azriel kissed her neck softly, his touch a stark contrast for how Cassian was fucking her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Cassian whined, slamming harder and harder and causing Feyre to come around his cock as he came with a guttural groan. He released her hands, and her chest fell back to the bed as she gulped in a deep breath of air.

She closed her eyes, trying to steady herself. She could feel her legs shaking beneath her, the bed being the only thing keeping her from collapsing into the floor entirely. Before she had even caught her breath, Azriel lined himself up and pushed inside of her, stretching her in an entirely different way than Cass had.

“Always feel so fucking perfect, no matter how many times we use this tight little cunt,” Azriel moaned, going at a slower and deeper pace than Cassian had. The slow speed allowed Feyre to enjoy the way he felt as he glided in and out of her. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she rocked her hips back into Azriel’s.

“Fuck yeah,” Azriel gasped. “Fuck me back.”

Feyre’s pussy fluttered around him as she obeyed, rocking her hips in a way that felt best to her, and learning with no small amount of pride, that it was affecting Azriel just as much. He was a whimpering, whiny mess behind her.

She could tell he was getting close to coming, so she clamped down on his cock, making him moan deep in his throat. She felt even more hot wax pour onto her back as she felt Azriel come inside of her, gripping her hips with bruising force as he stilled. Catching his breath, he slowly slid out of her.

Eager and impatient, Rhysand smacked her ass, his teeth biting into her skin before he, too, started to fuck her. She was dying underneath him, her body overworked and unsteady. But gods, it just felt too damn good. She had lost track of the number of times she’d come at this point. They overwhelmed all of her senses.

She loved how dirty and wrong it felt to let them have her like this. She submitted to them so fully that they owned her body, fucking her as much and as often as they pleased. She got off on the idea of them using her freely, anytime they wanted or needed her.

Feyre stiffened and tried to turn around when she heard a familiar buzzing, but Rhysand roughly shoved her back down onto the bed, snapping his hips with force. She gasped. He pressed the vibrator to her clit, and she nearly came unglued. She groaned through the gag, tears still falling from the corners of her eyes. She felt herself begin to pulse already, having been so thoroughly used that her body was on edge.

“I don’t care how good it feels, you do not come until I tell you to,” Rhys growled, fucking her harder. She nodded, each one of his thrusts slightly knocking the wind out of her. His cock stroked that perfect place deep inside of her cunt, and she felt dizzy.

Rhys was relentless with his pace and firm hold on the vibrator. Feyre tried everything she could think of to keep herself from coming. She wasn’t going to be able to hold it in for much longer. She tried to protest through the gag, but her words were unintelligible. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, feeling like she was going to explode when finally, Rhysand spoke.

“Come on my cock, Feyre,” he sighed. “Let me feel how much my good girl likes being used like this.” She collapsed with relief, her release barreling toward her as she felt herself grip Rhysand. He came, too, exploding and collapsing onto her back as he blinked and came back to reality.

Once he pulled out, he softly undid her bindings, pressing sweet kisses to all of the red marks they’d left behind. The boys pampered her, making sure she was showered and fed before they did anything else. Feyre was exhausted after what she had just put her body through, but she had never felt more satisfied. At least for the moment, that hollow and aching feeling was gone, and she felt fully relaxed and at ease.

Chapter Text

“Rhys?” Feyre said softly, gently knocking on his office door. He scooted his chair back slightly, looking over to her.

“Yes, Feyre Darling?”

“Can I talk to you?” She bit her lip, shifting her weight on her feet awkwardly.

“Of course you can,” he said sweetly, beckoning her over. She walked to him, and he lifted her up onto his desk the way he had many times before, running his hands up her thighs and looking at her with concern clearly painted on his features. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I think I feel lonely.” Cassian and Azriel had just gotten back today from a two week-long trip to Illyria, and Rhys had been buried in work and had barely had any time to spend with her.

“How can I make it better?”

“Can you hang out with me right now?” She asked, knowing it was hard for him to step away from work, but knowing she needed him. His brow furrowed. He was being so gentle with her, so caring.

“Sure, baby,” he nodded. “Do you want Az and Cass?”

She nodded, tears welling in her eyes as she grabbed a fist full of his shirt.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” he pleaded. “They’re on their way now.”

He must have spoken to them mind-to-mind to ask them to come to his office. It was only minutes before they were all together again, and Feyre’s heart squeezed in her chest. Rhysand picked her up, having her wrap her legs around his torso as he carried her to their bedroom, and Cassian and Azriel followed behind. They all changed into sweatpants, climbing on their bed in a pile as they just enjoyed being together.

“What’s been on your mind, Fey?” Azriel asked her, rubbing her leg soothingly.

“I just really miss you guys when you’re gone,” she confessed, tears falling without her permission. She went to angrily wipe them away, but Cass caught her wrist and placed her hand back in her lap, using his thumb to slowly and softly wipe her tears.

“We miss you, too, sweetheart,” Cassian promised. “I hate being without you.”

“Promise we can spend more time together like this?” She asked, looking to each of them.

“Promise,” they all nodded in unison.

“Thank you,” she whispered, squeezing Cassian’s hand in her own.

She leaned forward and pressed a slow kiss to Cassian’s lips, and he reciprocated, his hand tangling in her hair as he held her to him, kissing her with slow, deep passion. Once she pulled back, she turned to Rhysand, giving him a slow kiss as well, before she did the same with Azriel. She felt so connected to them right now, and she wasn’t even sure how to make them all feel as loved as she felt.

“You know, Feyre,” Azriel murmured. “It’s very important to me that you know our Bond is more than just sex to me. I know we all very much enjoy it, but you can always come talk to me when you need to. I’ll be a listener or shoulder to cry on. Whatever you need. You’re so important to me, and I don’t want you suffering with these heavy feelings all on your own.”

“I feel the same,” Cassian assured her. “Let me be your friend as much as your lover.”

Rhysand watched them, a small smile on his lips showing her that he needed this just as much as she did. Feyre’s tears fell faster, but this time they weren’t quite so sad. She just felt so many emotions for these males. She didn’t know what she would do without them.

“I want to be a safe place for all of you, too,” Feyre sniffled.

“You are everything, Feyre,” Rhys whispered, tucking her hair behind her ears. “You are home to me.”

“Can we take a bath?” Feyre asked, and they all smiled.

Rhysand ran the massive tub full of steaming water, and Cassian dumped in the soap to fill the bath with honeysuckle scented bubbles. Azriel threw towels in the dryer, so they’d be warm when they got out, and they all climbed in together.

Feyre straddled Cassian’s lap in the bath, with Azriel and Rhysand on either side of her. She placed a hand on the side of Cassian’s neck as she gazed into his eyes, feeling thankful for all that she had. She certainly felt a lot less lonely with the three of them around her like this.
Azriel reached out, pushing Feyre’s hair behind her shoulders. Her breasts glistened with water and suds. Azriel’s fingers dropped to skate across her nipple and she shivered. Rhysand began to kiss the side of her neck, and she allowed her eyes to drift closed.

Azriel began to kiss the other side of her neck just as Cassian pulled her forward until her lips met his own, and having three mouths on her skin at once was stimulating her in all the right ways. She felt set on fire. Cassian flicked his tongue against hers as Rhys and Az suckled on her neck.

She felt herself grow wetter with every pass of their tongues along her skin, but she was so content with what was happening at the moment. Rhysand’s hand moved to her breasts, squeezing and kneading the flesh of them as he lightly pinched and twisted her nipples between his fingers. She moaned, a low deep sound.

“You’re so beautiful,” Azriel murmured against her skin.

“A goddess,” Rhysand agreed.

“Truly mesmerizing,” Cassian whispered against her lips.

Azriel began to toy with her other nipple as they continued kissing her neck and mouth. She arched into his and Rhysand’s touches, gasping against Cassian’s mouth. Cass slid a hand between them, running a finger through her arousal that dripped into the water.

She reached for his cock, feeling that he was already hard, but he stopped her.

“No,” he whispered. “This is only about you right now.”

She whimpered at his words, feeling him slowly press a finger inside of her. She rocked her hips against his hand, licking the roof of his mouth in a way that made him shiver. He added a second finger and she moaned again, riding his hand.

Cassian curled his fingers so that he hit that perfect spot inside of her, and she went liquid. They were worshiping every inch of her body with slow, lustful passion. They used their mouths and hands to show her just how they felt about her.

“So perfect,” Azriel said, pressing kisses to her jawline.

“So tight, hot, and wet,” Cassian said into her mouth.

“Our perfect girl,” Rhys confirmed.

Feyre tipped her head back and two mouths found either of her nipples and she squeezed her eyes shut, rocking her hips harder into Cassian’s hand as his thumb began to massage her clit with the perfect amount of pressure.

“Gods,” she panted. “I love you.”

“I love you,” they all repeated immediately and intentionally.

“You deserve worship and praise,” Rhys promised her. “If we ever forget to remind you again, please tell us. We want you to feel safe and wanted and held with us.”

Feyre shivered through a moan, her stomach tightening as she felt herself begin to pulsate around Cassian’s fingers. He coaxed her toward her climax with a delicious, slow build up.

“Come for us, Feyre,” Cassian whispered against her breast.

“Feel good for us,” Azriel seconded. "You look so beautiful."

“Good girl,” Rhys said as she reached her peak, coming all over Cassian’s hand. She let the pure pleasure wash over her skin as they continued to kiss and pamper her, making her feel loved and special and heard. None of them had ever tried to argue with her about how she felt, they just wanted to do their best to make sure they never made her feel that way again.

They held her in the bath, praising her and massaging her skin until she could barely hold her eyes open. They dried her body and pulled one of Cassian’s giant tee shirts over her head, letting her climb into bed and then surrounding her with cuddles and warm bodies. Feyre got the best night’s sleep she had in quite some time and was grateful to have such loving Bonds.

Chapter Text

Feyre was nonchalantly walking through her bedroom when she heard it. Another whimpered, stifled moan came from inside the bathroom. Her heard skipped in her chest as she quietly walked closer, ears straining with the effort it took to hear.

“Fuck,” Azriel hissed through his teeth. Feyre bit her lip as she listened, hearing the sound of his hand gliding along the slick length of himself. She walked to the side just a little, seeing through the crack in the door.

Azriel’s head was bowed, water pounding down onto his head as he panted. He fisted his cock, pumping himself with parted lips. She watched the way the breath slid easily in and out of his lungs as he worked himself. She noted the muscles in his arms, in his legs, on his torso. She adored the way he looked soaking wet and pathetically desperate.

She was so focused on the droplets sliding down his pectoral muscles that she hadn’t heard someone enter behind her, hadn’t noticed them watching her watch Azriel. Hands found her hips, pulling her back into a hard, chiseled chest.

“What are you watching, Feyre darling?” Rhysand purred into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. She closed her eyes under his caressing touch as his hands rubbed up and down the outside of her thighs.

“Nothing,” she lied.

“Hmm,” he hummed against her neck, nuzzling into her and pressing delicate kisses to the soft skin of her throat. “I want you to keep watching.”

His words made her breath catch in her throat, but she obeyed. Watching Azriel stroking his cock, she felt like she was going liquid under Rhysand’s touch. When he unbuttoned her shorts, slowly pulling down the zipper, she felt like she just might die.

“My dirty girl likes to watch, don’t you?” He nipped at her neck with his teeth, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes back into her head and instead focused on Azriel, who was still none the wiser to his audience.

Rhysand’s hand slid into her shorts, underneath her underwear. He slid a finger through her slit, groaning at how slick she was between her thighs.

Azriel let out a particularly loud whimper, drawing her attention back. His hands were both pressed to the wall as he let the water pour down his sculpted body. He was so hard that his erection nearly was flush with his abdomen. He was no longer touching himself, panting wildly.

After a long moment, he began to slowly stroke himself again, tipping his head back and exposing the apple of his throat to the constant spray of the shower head. His hand moved lightly, barely touching himself as though he were trying to tease himself.

Holy gods… he was edging himself, wasn’t he? Feyre felt like she was going to faint. That was the precise moment Rhysand sank two fingers inside of her, making her gasp and lean forward slightly.

“This gets you off, doesn’t it?” He coaxed her, pumping his fingers in and out of her at an even, unrushed pace. Enough to keep her attention but not enough to satisfy her. “Watching him bring himself right to the brink only to deny himself. Do you think you can do that, angel? I think you can.”

“Yes,” Feyre breathed, lolling her head back against his shoulder as she watched Azriel in the shower from underneath her lashes.

As Azriel’s pace increased, so did Rhysand’s. He mimicked Azriel, bringing her right to the edge of climax, but never giving her what she wanted. She hadn’t even noticed Cassian enter the room, sitting in a chair in the corner, watching her as she watched Az.

It was all so voyeuristic. She was simultaneously watching and being watched, and her body was singing the praises of Rhysand’s fingers inside her cunt. Frustrated with his limited movement, Rhysand removed his fingers and began to roughly shove her shorts down her thighs.

“Let me watch, Feyre,” Cassian said, his voice rough.

Rhysand hooked one arm under one of her knees, holding one leg up in the air as the other stayed planted on the ground. He opened her up wide, exposing her cunt to the cool air and Cassian’s hungry eyes. She leaned back on Rhysand for balance, trying her best to keep quiet.

Noticing Azriel’s increase in urgency and pace, Rhysand used the hand not hooked underneath one leg to trace her slit with his fingers slowly. He teased her for a few moments before he sank his fingers back inside of her, three this time. The stretch of her raised leg and his fingers inside of her was so delicious. She felt like an invisible itch was being scratched in the perfect place.

She heard a sigh off to the side and realized Cassian had freed himself from his pants, watching Rhysand’s fingers disappear inside of Feyre’s pussy. He stroked himself in time, as though he were imagining what it would feel like to be Rhysand’s fingers, plunging his cock into her instead.

Feyre began sucking air in and out of her lungs as quickly as she could, feeling her stomach and core tighten around Rhysand’s fingers as she neared her climax. She watched the strain in the muscles of Azriel’s arms, trying to keep himself from finishing before he was ready. If it was anything like it was for Feyre, she was barely holding on to her sanity.

Rhysand sucked on her neck roughly, knowing she was only getting closer and closer as he used the hand holding up one of her legs to spread her wider, push his fingers in deeper.

“Fuck Feyre, you’re so sexy,” Cassian groaned under his breath.

“Good girl, Feyre,” Rhys whispered against her neck. “Do you see what you’re doing to Cassian? How hard he is for you? I bet Azriel’s thinking about you in there, too. His thoughts are pretty loud.”

“Yeah?” Feyre panted, urging him on. She loved when Rhysand talked dirty to her.

“Mhm. He’s thinking about how you look bent over in front of him, spread open for the taking. He’s thinking about the way you wrap around his cock like a sleeve and nearly make him come every time he sinks inside you. He’s thinking about how hard it is to hold himself back from destroying you and taking you any way he likes.” Rhysand kept pumping his fingers as he talked, feeling her pulsate around him and knowing she was getting closer.

“How does he want to use me?” She asked, keeping her eyes on the steam-riddled shower Azriel occupied, imagining what his thoughts must look like. She wanted all of them, wanted to know everything.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Azriel groaned loudly as he quickly placed both hands back on the wall, edging himself yet again. His cock was straining, swollen, and desperate for release. Rhysand removed his fingers from Feyre in time with Azriel.

Cassian, still watching with parted lips from the corner, released himself as well. Feyre, still spread open, wiggled her ass back into Rhysand, nearly begging for him to touch her again. It was agonizingly long seconds before he began to touch her again.

“Come here, Cass,” Rhysand instructed. Rhysand’s hand left Feyre’s pussy and she whined, but he reached under her ass to finger her from behind. “Eat her.”

Gods, every time she thought she was used to these males, they found new ways to make her drool all over again. Eager to obey, Cassian knelt before her, wasting no time before sucking her clit into his mouth. Rhys fingered Feyre from the back as Cassian suckled at her.

“Feyreeee,” Azriel moaned from the shower, and her eyes rolled back.

“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods,” Feyre whimpered desperately, no longer able to hold herself up and entirely relying on Cass and Rhys to keep her held upright. She noticed Cassian stroking himself as he ate her out, and what a beautiful sight it was to see him on his knees for her.

“Ready, Feyre? You can come this time,” Rhysand readied her. She nodded weakly, and they continued their efforts, working her up that hill until she was pathetically clenching around Rhysand’s fingers, her hands tangled in Cassian’s hair as she rode his face, rolling her hips into him as Rhys still held her open for devouring.

She came all over Cassian’s mouth with a dramatic moan, collapsing back into Rhysand, who caught her easily. Cassian smiled, his face covered in her wetness before he used the back of his hand to wipe it away like wiping his mouth after a hearty meal.

Slowly, Feyre came back into her own body, her legs shaking as Rhys let the leg he was holding down and allowed her to stand normally. She blinked a few times and hadn’t even registered that the shower had stopped until she looked up.

Azriel leaned in the doorway, a towel slung lowly across his hips. He cocked an eyebrow at her, looking down at her lack of clothing and back up to her eyes. She offered an innocent smile and he snorted.

“Enjoy the show?” He asked her.

“You knew we were watching?” She said, slack jawed. He scoffed.

“Feyre, I’m literally a spy. You don’t think I know when I’m being watched? That never stopped me from putting on a good show,” he winked at her.

Surging forward, Azriel gripped her hips, lifting her so that her legs wrapped around his torso, and she shrieked. He carried her over to the bed, Cassian and Rhysand following. He let her fall back onto the bed, crawling on top of her and settling between her legs, only a towel separating them.

“Now are you ready for the full experience?” Az teased with a wicked smirk. She bit her lip and nodded.

Chapter Text

Azriel was situated between Feyre’s legs as Cassian and Rhysand came up on either side of her. She wrapped her legs around Azriel’s middle, trying to pull him closer. His body was still slightly damp from the shower and his hair dripped, causing rivulets of water to cascade down his chest. Feyre couldn’t help but stare as the water carved its path on his skin.

Azriel sat back on his knees, looking down and taking in the sight of Feyre spread open for him. His lips slowly pulled into a lustful smirk as he watched her chest quickly rise and fall, knowing she was anxiously awaiting his next move.

“I want to try something with you,” Azriel murmured, running his hands up and down her thighs. Cassian and Rhysand propped up on their arms on either side of Feyre. Rhysand’s hand came up to cup her breast, teasing his fingers across her nipples lightly, which made her suck in a breath quickly.

“Okay…” Feyre breathed, not sure what to anticipate when it came to her three Illyrians. She’d never been able to predict their behavior apart from knowing how loving they could be when they really wanted to.

“I want you to take all three of us.”

Feyre furrowed her eyebrows at him. Had she not done that a million times over?

“At the same time.”

Feyre’s eyes widened in fear. She looked to Cassian and Rhysand, who both wore matching smirks, eating up her reaction like predators stalking their prey. She finally looked back at Azriel who was waiting for her answer patiently.

“Um…”

“I promise we’ll move slowly and will immediately stop if you get uncomfortable,” Azriel promised her. She bit her lip. She wasn’t sure why the idea made her so nervous.

“Okay,” she nodded finally. “I’ll try it.”

Azriel grinned at her widely, leaning forward to kiss her. His lips pressed against hers softly.

“Good girl,” he murmured against her mouth. “We’re gonna take good care of you, sweet girl.”

His hand fell between her legs, tracing her slit lightly, gathering her wetness to swirl around her clit a few times, the remnants of her earlier orgasm still having her hypersensitive as her legs twitched.

He pushed a finger inside of her, groaning at the way she gripped him. He pumped his finger in and out a few times before adding another, slowly stretching her out for him. Without warning, he flipped both of them so she was straddling him. She squeaked, holding onto him tightly. He chuckled.

She let him guide her hips, feeling herself glide along the length of his cock, soaking him in her arousal. He watched where they connected, eyes drowsy and lustful and lips parted. He let her grind against him until he could tell she was getting close to coming, then he impaled her on himself quickly.

She gasped, her mouth forming an o. The intrusion of him inside of her was welcome, despite being unexpected. She lifted her hips a few times, sliding back down on his cock until she’d taken all of him.

He reached up, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her down so she was flush against his chest. Cassian moved to be behind her as Rhysand continued to lay next to her, still playing with her nipples and teasing her breasts.

She heard a bottle opening as Cassian lathered himself in lube. She felt him press a digit against her ass, slowly sliding himself in. It was an incredibly tight fit, and she had no idea how he planned to fit his cock inside of her, especially while Azriel was already inside her.

“That’s it, Feyre, good girl,” Cassian cooed. “Just relax for me.” She felt him add another finger, stretching her wider. She panted.

“Talk to me, Feyre darling. Are you doing okay?” Rhysand whispered from where he lay next to Azriel. She nodded, currently unable to speak.

This was only worsened when Azriel leaned up, taking the nipple Rhysand wasn’t playing with into his mouth, laving his tongue against her in slow, luxurious circles. He sucked on her, making her grow even wetter around him, allowing her body to relax into Cassian’s third finger.

“Doing so good for me, Fey,” Cassian coached from behind her. He rubbed his free hand up and down her back soothingly.

Suddenly, she felt the head of his cock at her entrance, slowly pushing in, and her jaw dropped open, squeezing her eyes shut at the invasion. She felt so fucking full. He pushed in a little, allowing her a second to adjust before pulling out slightly and pushing back in deeper than before.

“So fucking tight,” Cassian hissed. “I can barely fit, Feyre, fuck.”

“Look at you,” Rhysand purred in praise. “You take them both so well.”

Cassian jerked forward, his hips meeting hers as he fully seated himself inside of her.

“Gods, Cass, I can feel you,” Azriel groaned. “She’s so tight around me.”

Feyre let out a deep moan as they finally fell into a perfect rhythm, rocking her in a way that allowed each of them to thrust back in at the perfect angle. A deep shiver ran down Feyre’s spine and she swore.

Rhysand’s hand cupped the side of her face. “That’s my good girl, I’m so proud of you.” He ran his thumb along her bottom lip before pressing it inside of her mouth. She moaned, swirling her tongue around his thumb as they continually worked her.

Rhys pressed down on her tongue, forcing her to open her mouth wide. She obeyed and watched as he undid his belt with one hand, unzipping and freeing himself. She watched his face as he pumped himself a few times in his hand before he rubbed the head of his cock against her tongue.

She kept eye contact with him as she suckled around the head, slowly taking him deeper and deeper as she groaned around the size of him. Every moan had him knitting his hand in her hair, thrusting himself deeper into her throat as she gagged around him. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.

“Such fucking pretty tears,” Rhys praised her, tossing his head back as she sucked him harder. He moaned loudly, and as she sucked him, Azriel’s mouth swapped to her other nipple as he continued to fuck her deeply.

“Pretty little slut takes cock so well,” Cassian said through gritted teeth, fucking her ass even harder, which forced her to take Rhys deeper into her throat.

“Feels so good,” Azriel panted. “I’m going to come soon.”

“Fuck, same,” Cassian said, using the back of his hand to wipe sweat from his forehead before re-gripping her hips, forcing himself deeper inside her. Feyre felt so full that her eyes rolled back into her head. She had no clue she could feel this much ecstasy at once.

“Love feeling you gag around my cock,” Rhysand murmured, rubbing her cheek affectionately with his thumb as he continued to thrust his hips into her mouth. “That’s right, fucking soak me, baby.”

“She’s already soaked me,” Azriel joked with a cheesy grin. Feyre hummed her approval, which made Rhys moan.

“I want you to come, okay, Feyre?” Az asked her, snaking his hand between them to rub her clit. She moaned and tried to nod her head. Azriel touched her in a way that made her see stars. She sucked harder on Rhysand, savoring the feeling of being so thoroughly used by males who loved her just as much as they loved fucking her.

Feyre felt herself begin to pulse around Azriel, who swore loudly. “She’s gonna come.” He kept his movements the same, working her up the hill of her climax. Cassian’s thrusts became sloppy and Rhys’s did too. She began to see spots in her vision as she came.

She could have sworn it happened all at once, but Rhysand came down her throat, and Cass and Azriel came inside of her. They all panted, exhaustion setting in deeply. They all slowly pulled out of her and she took the deepest breath of her life. Rhysand pulled her into his lap, holding her and rocking her until her nervous system had calmed down.

Afterwords, they all took a quick shower together and climbed into bed, a giant cuddle pile of limbs and bodies. Feyre laid her head on Cassian’s chest and Rhys stroked her thigh softly.

“You know, solstice is coming up…” Feyre trailed off. Azriel snorted.

“What is it you want?”

“Hey! I meant because I’ve bought you all the very best presents you’ll have ever gotten, thank you very much,” Feyre protested.

“Arguable,” Cassian murmured. “I’m a fantastic gift giver.”

“I think we’re all good gift givers,” Azriel said, narrowing his eyes at Cassian.

“Let’s make it a challenge, then,” Rhysand said. “Whoever gives the best gifts gets to have a night where they decide everything we do.”

“Fine!” Az huffed. “But I will win.”

“No you won’t,” Feyre said, just to rile him up. “I always win.”

“Says the one who was just stuffed full of cock,” Azriel joked, nipping at her jaw as he reached across to kiss her throat. She giggled. “I’d say that was a win for us.”

“You say that like you never have been,” she teased. Azriel’s jaw dropped open.

“Vicious little creature, aren’t you?”

“The most vicious,” she said with a pretend snarl.

They teased each other playfully until their eyes became too heavy to keep open, and they all fell asleep on one another, a happy little family.

Chapter Text

When Solstice finally came, Feyre felt happier and lighter than she ever had in her entire life. Her entire world had been flipped upside down when she met Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand. Everything she’d ever known changed, but she had never felt more alive or like herself. Being with her Illyrians gave her a rush no other substance could compare to.

They spent the day celebrating with Cassian’s wonderful cooking and Azriel’s superior taste in decorations, adorning the tables with blossoming indigo-colored flowers unlike anything Feyre had ever seen before. Rhysand seemed extra cuddly on days like Solstice, constantly finding Feyre wherever she was and wrapping his arms around her waist from behind her. The warmth of his body would frame hers perfectly and he dipped his head so that his nose traced lightly across the side of her neck and she shivered, closing her eyes with a soft smile.

Once it was time to exchange gifts, Feyre felt like she could burst from excitement. She had so meticulously planned each of their gifts and was fully prepared to win the competition between the four of them, ensuring once and for all that she was the ultimate gift-giver.

“Azriel first,” she decided, wanting to show him how vital he was to her. “Here, love. Open it.”

She handed him a beautiful, but simple silver box with a matching silver silk bow. He gave her an unreadable expression before slowly opening it. He pulled out the beautiful glossed mahogany box. She noticed he swallowed roughly before parting the lid, opening the beautiful music box with delicate movements. Out poured the most delicate, intoxicating song Feyre had ever heard. Her eyes wanted to drift shut at the sound. She felt instantly soothed.

“Wow,” Azriel said, a softness and boyishness tinting his voice that nearly made Feyre want to weep. She looked at him, noticing that his eyes were closed softly and his shoulders had slowly begun to melt away from how tense they’d been.

Rhysand yawned in Feyre’s peripheral vision and she smiled. Success.

“It’s a lullaby box,” Feyre explained. “It’s carved from a beautiful tree native to the Steppes and enchanted to ease nightmares and specifically to calm and soothe shadows.”

“Feyre, I don’t know what to say,” he said, looking down at the now-closed box longingly. There was a sadness in his eyes she hadn’t expected to be there. Had he not liked the gift?

“I just know you have a hard time sleeping. I thought maybe it would help you. Especially on nights you travel and don’t have us with you.” His eyes welled with tears, but he flexed his jaw, fighting them back.

“Thank you, Feyre,” he whispered. “This means everything to me.”

“Of course. Now, Cassian’s turn.”

“I’m a man of many tastes and lover of simple pleasures. Looking at you is gift enough,” Cassian smirked. Feyre rolled her eyes at him, handing him a slightly bigger box. He sat up, gently taking off the lid and pulling out his gift.

It was a custom leather flight cloak charmed to keep you warm, even in the drastic cold of the Illyrian winters. She knew that tucked inside was a long, heartfelt letter she’d written him that he’d hopefully find one day on a long flight when he needed it most. Just like she’d hidden a similar- but different and personalized of course- note in Azriel’s lullaby box and in Rhysand’s gift as well.

“To keep you warm on long flights when I’m not there to,” she said sweetly to him.

“It’s gorgeous, Fey. Thank you, sweetheart.” He smacked a big kiss on her temple, hugging her into his chest. She inhaled the warm, inviting scent of him for a moment before he pulled away.

She turned to Rhysand with her final gift, and he smirked at her expectantly, lounged back slightly in his chair and looking absolutely delicious in his signature all black look. Feyre bit her lip as she handed him his gift. He accepted it lovingly, catching her hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it before letting her go. She blushed.

Rhys opened the box to pull out the black silk nightrobe, which he arched a lustful brow at her over. She blushed even harder. He pulled out a leather-bound journal Feyre had gotten enchanted to look blank to anyone who was not Rhysand, so he could feel safe to divulge his thoughts he’d never felt safe to share. Lastly, he pulled out the warmed house slippers lined with the softest fabric Feyre had ever felt.

“How scandalously domestic, Feyre darling,” Rhys teased.

“A gift for my partner, not the High Lord. An invitation to be human for a moment and take time to rest and relax.”

“I love you,” was all he said, but his eyes said so much more. They spoke to her of starry nights and echoed love confessions. They promised to show her later just how much it’d really meant to him.

“Now your turn,” Azriel grinned, rubbing his hands together. “We sort of worked together on a few things for you.”

Azriel reached behind him, pulling out a bag stuffed with tissue paper concealing the gift. She eagerly took it, opening it and pulling out what made her gasp and her eyes immediately overflow in a way they had never done in such joy. In her hands was a folded quilt, but inside each square was a hand-stitched memory of her time with them. Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand had learned how to quilt and embroider each of these memories specifically for her. Among them was Starfall, her bow and arrow, the bend of the Sidra where they’d spent so many sun-soaked days. So many memories woven into a comfort item she could keep and cuddle forever. She felt weepy.

“I cannot even begin to thank you for this,” she made sure to look each of them in the eye, making sure they heard her. “You are wonderful partners. Each of you.” She really, really meant it.

“Next one,” Cassian smiled, handing her a box this time. Inside, there was a golden heart shaped locket that had a fold out compartment that allowed for four pictures, each holding one of them. Feyre giggled at how silly but simultaneously entirely lovely it was.

“I love it so much,” she said, holding it to her heart, clutched tightly in her fist. “I’m never going to take it off.”

Rhysand reached over, brushing her hair over one shoulder and buckling the locket around her neck for her, placing a gentle kiss on the nape of her neck before fixing her hair again. He placed a third and final gift in her lap and she began to open it. Inside were three love letters from each of them, and she just could not wait to rip them open.

“Oh! I also got aged bourbon for each of you in the kitchen,” Feyre announced, and they each looked at each other with cheeky, boyish grins before stumbling over each other in a rush to get to the kitchen to see what kind she had gotten them. While they were gone, she looked around at the opened gifts and the amount of love they shared, and felt lucky beyond belief. She wasn’t even sure who had won their competition, but she was pretty sure they’d let her win anyway.

Chapter Text

    Feyre plotted what she wanted as her prize for giving the best solstice gifts, after they’d begrudgingly admitted defeat. She knew the weight of the power she held and she had to pick the perfect thing. What was something she’d always wanted? She’d contemplated making them strip for her, putting on a show. She imagined them lathered in oil and bit her lip to fight a grin. But no, it had to be something better than that. She just couldn’t figure out what.

On the day she figured it out, she felt like she was floating on the clouds above her head.

She waited until dinner to tell them, letting them happily chatter on about their days and the work they were doing in the Steppes. Feyre waited giddily, twirling her utensils in her hand as a blush threatened to creek up her neck and tint her cheeks. “I’ve decided my prize,” she announced quickly, and they all paused mid-conversation to look at her with curious eyes.

“Is that so?” Cass arched a brow. Feyre nodded.

“Let’s hear it, Feyre darling,” Rhysand smirked. He wouldn’t be smirking much longer. She felt a devious sense of satisfaction fill her chest. Power, she realized. She felt powerful. She stood from the table, pushing her chair back and lightly cleared her throat.

“I have decided that none of you are allowed to touch me until given explicit permission. You, over the next few weeks, will prove your undying devotion to me. You won’t feel my skin again unless I allow you to.” Their lips parted as they looked at her hungrily. Rhysand’s dark violet eyes looked insatiable.

“Feyre,” Rhysand began in a warning tone. “Are you sure?”

“I’m certain,” she nodded.

“But that means no cuddles for you at night before bed, love,” Azriel said smugly, like Feyre was the one who was going to be struggling to contain herself. She chuckled to herself.

“And we can’t make you feel good,” Cass mocked.

“No, but I sure can,” she said, leaning forward across the table with such satisfaction it was oozing from her. “Maybe if you’re a good boy I’ll let you watch.” Cassian’s gaze went from defiant to challenged, then settled at something that looked like determination.

“And if I do this, and I prove my devotion to you first, does that mean I’ll be the only one allowed to touch you until you let the others?” Azriel said suggestively. His hazel eyes were blazing with something very easily identified as excitement. She always suspected her shadowsinger was more sexually ambitious than she had seen. Azriel had many, many sides and could easily and stealthily slip into different roles.

“Yes,” she said, arching a powerful brow. She’d intentionally worn a top that pushed up her cleavage, and it was incredibly noticeable with her leaned over the table like this, and she caught Rhysand staring. Something about knowing how badly he wanted to touch her, and also knowing she had this power over him was electrifying. She felt so alive. This week was going to be so much fun. She had so many aces up her sleeve.

“You poisonous little siren,” Rhysand purred. “I’m so adamantly in love with you.”

She flushed again, feeling the intense heat of his gaze on her skin. The strap of her top fell down her shoulder, exposing more of her breast. She gasped dramatically, looking down at her now-shown skin and looked back up at her Illyrians in mock surprise.

Azriel laughed darkly, and the sound sent a shiver of delight up her spine. “Game on, Feyre. Game fucking on.”

Her stomach stirred at his words and their underlying intentions. She was positively thrilled.

Chapter Text

Feyre woke to the annoyingly incessant sound of banging outside of her window. She instinctively reached across the bed in search of the warmth of one of her mates, but came up cold and alone. She sighed, stretching lazily as the banging began again. She growled, throwing the blankets back off of her and stomping over to the window, pulling the curtains open and searching for the source of such irritating sounds. She began murmuring to herself.

“Not exactly the way to get to touch me again, fucking banging around at 7am-“

Her words caught in her throat and she swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Gods be damned.

Outside her window, Cassian’s broad back muscles flexed, his tanned bare skin glistening with sweat in the sun as he swung a hammer down again, using the back of his forearm to wipe the moisture from his forehead, brows furrowed as he focused. Feyre bit her lip, shifting her weight between her feet. He lifted a beautifully polished piece of wood over to where he was building something… shirtless, with those damn low-slung pants that revealed the V line tracing her favorite place to kiss. He looked godly.

Oh, he was good. Fuck.

It had only been two days since she’d made her pact with the boys that they would not get to touch her until given explicit permission, and here she was, squeezing her thighs together slightly in her silk sleep shorts as she watched one of the men she loved do manual labor.

She lifted the window open, admiring his body work for a few selfish moments longer before she spoke to him, causing him to still. “Better be worth waking me up, whatever it is you’re building.”

He turned around with a smug smirk with a nail between his teeth, allowing the hammer to hang at his side.

“Oh, hey, baby,” he said warmly.

“Hmm.” His grin widened.

“Sure hope you got enough sleep in there all alone,” he said with a fake pout. She rolled her eyes, leaning her arms against the window and resting her chin atop them.

“Oh, I did,” she smiled tauntingly. “So much rooooom, so many extra pillowsssss.”

“Hmm.” He mocked her.

“Hope you slept good all alone, too.”

His eyes glistened with mischief. “Fey,” he said, like he was leveling her. “Who said I slept alone?”

Her stomach twisted with jealousy as she imagined her three Illyrians all together, their attention not all turned toward her. She blushed bright pink at the thought of them alone together and what they likely had gotten up to without their typical outlet. She hadn’t outlawed it. She’d never said they couldn’t be… with each other. So, why was she jealous?

“Oh,” was all she said.

“Azriel can be very eager to please,” he winked at her. Oh, now she was jealous. She’d told them to prove their devotion to her and they’d spent the night pleasing each other instead? See where that got them. She growled in frustration, slamming the window closed again and storming to the bathroom to get ready when she heard the banging start back up again. She was going to fucking kill someone.

Chapter Text

On the third day, she was sure they were actively avoiding her. Frustrated beyond belief, she mostly ignored them when she happened to run into them in the hallways, and they seemed content with that, so why shouldn't she be? So she gathered her things and thought she’d go use the shower in their shared room since she liked the rain shower most, and if they just so happened to be back from training and witness her all wet and soapy in their shower, would it be the worst thing?

So she stripped her clothes, on her tip toes due to the cool tile underneath her feet. She walked into the shower and beneath the spray of hot water with a sigh. She closed her eyes, tipping her head back and just letting it wash over her as she slathered her body with her favorite soap.

A low whistle shocked her from her daze and she blinked away the water finding Azriel standing in the bathroom, looking at her awe-struck, like he’d never seen her naked before. He bit his lower lip playfully, pulling off his shirt and beginning to unlace his training boots.

“We had a deal,” she warned him quickly.

“I know, love. You know I like to watch anyway. I won’t touch you. But I do need a shower.”

Behind him Rhysand murmured something to Cassian that made him chuckle before they, too, stopped in their tracks realizing Feyre was there. So, they had been intentionally avoiding her. It stung a little bit in her chest. But they all followed Azriel’s lead and began to shred their shoes and clothes haphazardly on the floor.

“Hi, Fey,” Cassian murmured, stepping under the head of the second rain shower across from her. He did as she had and closed his eyes, allowing it to wash over him, cleaning the sweat from his skin and hair.

“Hi, Cass,” was all she said.

Rhysand stepped into the shower, walking closer to her before she stepped back, reminding him that even though he looked fucking fantastic naked in the shower, he still wasn’t allowed to touch her yet. The corner of his mouth twitched, but he obeyed her silent request, putting his hands on Cassian’s chest and slowly walking him back out of the water until his back hit the wall and the water slicked Rhysand’s raven’s black hair to his head, his violet eyes watching Cass with a smirk before they briefly flicked to Feyre and then away again as he began to slather his own body in soap.

Feyre’s cheeks felt hot and her eyes definitely avoided their bodies and the way their muscles moved, the water carving unique paths on each of them. She dared not look below their chests. She quickly finished her shower and stepped out, wrapping herself in a towel and trying not to look as flustered as she obviously was.

Az stepped in to take her abandoned shower head, and Rhysand stood behind him, making eye contact with Feyre over Azriel’s shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the top of Azriel’s shoulder, being sure to hold Feyre’s gaze. His hand came to lightly trace across Azriel’s lower abdomen, fingers trailing lower until Feyre’s eyes snapped away, something in her aching. Not in a lustful way, either.

“Sure you don’t want to join us, Feyre darling?” Rhysand asked gently. “We miss you.”

“I think I just want to go to bed, to be honest,” she said, chewing on her bottom lip and staring at the floor a moment too long before gathering her things and heading toward the door.

“Fey,” Cass called after her. “I love you.”

She nodded, pretending that didn’t make her stomach drop slightly. She knew she was being an insolent crybaby about this, and having much too high of expectations for her Illyrians but gods could they try at all? She knew they were busy, but no effort at all was killing her inside. Couldn’t they see that?

She crawled into bed once she got back to her room, finally letting the tears slide down her cheeks in waves as she fought to keep as quiet as possible. She didn’t want them to know they’d made her cry over something so small. She didn’t want to feel crazy, or like she was demanding too much.

It was around half an hour before there was a light knock at her door, so as not to wake her had she not been awake already.

“Come in,” she said.

The door slowly creaked open and Cassian peeked his head in.

“How’s my girl?” He said, but there was genuine concern on his face.

“Is it just you?” She rolled her eyes, hoping they weren’t so puffy that they gave away she’d been crying, even in the dark. He shook his head.

“We’re here,” Rhys said behind him. But they didn’t open the door any more, didn’t intrude. They were being respectful of her space if she needed it. She realized then how things may have seemed on their end too, with the commands not to touch her and the sleeping in another room. What she’d wanted to be a cute and playful game had likely come across wrong, like she was pushing them away.

“Why haven’t you tried at all, for our little Solstice game?” She said, frustratedly wiping away the fresh tears that began to fall. Cassian’s face fell, and he looked sick to his stomach.

“Feyre, no,” he said. “Please let us come in?”

She nodded reluntantly, and they all came to stand at the foot of her bed. They all looked pained, like they couldn’t wrap their heads around the distance between them.

“I think we’ve misunderstood each other,” Rhysand started. “We have something we’d like to show you, if you’re up for it.”

“Okay,” she swallowed.

“Can I propose something? You can always say no, you know that.” She nodded for Rhysand to continue. “I propose that the ‘no touching’ rule only applies in a sexual context. I’ve really really missed you, Feyre.” Her heart gave a squeeze at his words. She supposed she wanted that, too.

“I’ve missed you so much, all of you,” she said, wiping her tears again. Rhysand reached out his hand for her and she took it, climbing out of bed and following him down the hall. She noticed they were walking towards her makeshift art studio. Her eyes prickled again.

Rhysand stopped shy of the door.

“This was Cassian’s idea and he did most of the design work and manual labor.”

Feyre looked to Cassian, who just offered her a soft smile. “Go on, have a look.”

She obeyed, opening the door. Her jaw nearly unhinged. “Cass,” she breathed.

Inside typically there was a partially broken easel and her paints stacked everywhere, but this was a complete transformation. Bookshelves of beautiful wood lined the walls opposite the window wall. Feyre recognized the wood from when Cassian had been hammering outside of her window days before.

There was a new easel and ample space and storage for her paints. A desk to draw on. Her paintings framed on the walls up to the ceilings. The ceiling was painted her favorite shade of lavender and glass suncatchers lined the windows, sending an array of rainbows about the space, making it feel alive and magical. She couldn’t wait to create here.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice thick with tears. Cassian came and wrapped her in a hug, his entire body enveloping her and making her feel so safe. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“Nothing makes me happier than making you happy, Fey. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you. It’s my favorite thing to do.” She hugged him tighter and thanked whatever gods led her mates to her.

“However, Cass may have the lead, but I still have aces up my sleeve to win this competition,” Az said from behind them and they all chuckled, breaking the tension.

“I love you,” she whispered to each of them. She slept in the bed with them that night, but each of the males was so careful to respect her boundaries and made it clear they were only there for comfort. It was a wonderful feeling to be surrounded by.