A court of shadow and spying (Azriel X OC)

the terrible sin

To say I was excited was an understatement. I was more than that. I was so excited that I would soon meet my High Lord and finally be able to take up his task that not even the gloomy mood of the Court of Nightmares pulled me down. I had just returned from a training session with Azriel when I realized again that the time had come in three days. I would go to Velaris, to the City of Starlight, to Azriel, to his home. He had already promised to take me there more often, since we were to hold meetings there. At least that's what Rhysand had said to him. I didn't know if I should thank him for getting out of this shithole more often or if I should complain to him. After all, I was seeing everything I had always wanted. And I would have to leave this home again when I was brought to Hewn City to continue playing my role. It certainly wouldn't be easy, and I didn't know why everyone trusted me so generously, as if I were already in their family. I had no idea how they were going to proceed, how the plan was going to be put into action, or how they even found out about me. So I had some questions for my High Lord. Still, I was nervous. After all, I didn't know anyone in the inner circle except Azriel, but he never told me much about himself. We had become somewhat friends, yes, but we focused more on fighting techniques and the execution of them than on sharing stories from the past. But that was how it was with us. If someone wanted to talk, they did, and if they didn't, we didn't press each other. Most of the time I was too busy to look at him anyway.
Whether it was his muscles, or his silky hair swaying in the wind, or his wings, so large and magnificent that I could have stared at them all day. I resisted the urge to touch them, everyone knew that the Illyrian wings were very sensitive. But sometimes the feeling rose up in me, such a strong urge to see everything about him, that I had to turn away and get my feelings under control. Hopefully, I thought, I don't look like a disturbed stalker. But I could hardly deny his beauty. He was simply beautiful and handsome as he stood before me in his illyrian leathers, every day in his full glory. And so my feelings overcame me from time to time. I had no idea what they meant, surely he was just a very attractive man, one that every woman liked to look at. I could not think more into this matter, otherwise I would imagine more than would ever happen.
Still deep in thought, I walked through my door on my way to another customer.

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His hand ran over the inside of my thigh, tenderly, gently. And then he pulled. He pulled me to him, to the edge of the bed, before he turned his attention back to my naked body. He didn't talk much, not that I wanted him to. His hands were sensual on my skin, but also wrong and dirty. His index finger continued to rub up the inside of my thigh until he split my lips with it. His thumb now rubbed my clit in gossamer movements before he pressed on more, more pressure against me. He played with me as he always did. I had nothing against it either. Not many of the men here did something to stimulate me. He grabbed my chest, ran over my burst nipple, massaged it and tweaked it until it stood up clear and erected. He took his time, because he had it. His hands went around my thighs again, he pulled me closer to him, I could almost feel him on me. Slowly, so that I could watch, he began to rub himself. He was already hard, preparing himself. He pressed my thighs to his hips, so that contact arose between us. Up and down his hands slid, as if he wanted to see more, explore more. And then, he penetrated. But only with the tip. Out and in again. He rubbed it at my entrance, through my wet lips, and paused at my clit. With small, pleasurable circles he massaged it with his dick. And then, he forcefully penetrated me, stretched and widened me, filled me. My back arched and my toes curled up for a moment. He was big and thick, just as you wanted him to be. He moaned and rammed into me, without consideration, with pure animalistic violence. The bed began to shake, my breasts bouncing in time as he pushed and pushed and pushed. And my thoughts wandered to another place. But not the one that usually appeared to me. Because I saw Azriel. Surrounded by his shadows, he stood naked before me, his wings spread and his eyes shining with lust as he looked down on me. My toes were drawn in by it alone.

I groaned loudly. I could not help looking at him. His full muscles stretched over his arms, his belly....
I threw my head back and moaned again. I was incredibly wet, wetter than I had been in years. And he had not even touched me. Slowly he came closer and I could hardly keep still. His hands, covered in scars, slid along my calf, upward, ever upward, igniting a fire inside me, one that made me moan for more, one where my hips jerked, demanding more.
'Azriel', I whispered lustfully and looked him in the eyes. He returned the look as he put his hand to my clit and began to circle it. Slowly and pleasurably, his finger went from my juices back to my clit, moistening it, making everything all the more intimate. My breathing was heavy as he massaged the spot that was causing a burning in my feet back to my core and I bucked under him. But his other hand held me where I was. And then he hit and penetrated the point that caused a twitch in my abdomen, something I had not felt before. His thumb sped up, moving and drawing smaller, harder circles into my clit and I moaned his name over and over as he brought me closer as I felt the pressure in my abdomen. And when I felt his breath near my breasts, I gave up. A wave of pleasure rolled over me and I arched my back, my head shooting up, my mouth open, moans falling from my lips along with his name. My legs pressed together, holding him there, holding the fiery heat with me. Helping me come down from the wave. I breathed deeply as I opened my eyes.

And I was startled for a moment when I saw another man, someone who had just fucked me. And it was not Azriel. It was just an ordinary customer. He had already disappeared into the bathroom when I still rode trough the waves of bliss.
It had all been so real. My hand went over my belly, up to my entrance. It was wet with my juice.
And then it hit me. I had an orgasm. One as strong as never before.

And all thanks to a certain shadowsinger.