At the Mercy of the Stars

Caught Up in Your Spell

AN: This is the only explicit chapter and it's relatively tame compared to my more recent writing. As I said on AO3, I'm not close enough to my giftee to know whether they're comfortable with me writing them a kinky fic, so Daddy Rhys will not be making an appearance.

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Feyre

Massive, yet cozy. It was the only way Feyre could think to describe the large cabin Rhys had winnowed them to after one of the shopkeepers in the Rainbow had gotten too close for his taste. As a courtesy, they had tried to suppress things until after the formal ceremony was behind them, but there was no sense arguing reality.

Pathetic as it may seem to some, the four days of push and pull had been exhausting and Feyre was probably feeling more guilt than she should regarding the bloody nose Rhys had given Cassian when he'd made his flirtatious nature known the night prior. She could feel her mate watching her as she took in the space around them, absorbing the modest kitchen, living space, and hall exposed. Beyond the walkway would be two bedrooms, she'd been told. She didn't imagine they'd be spending much time outside of whichever they landed themselves in.

"I apologize, Feyre. That was impulsive of me to—" She cut him off with a heated kiss, every inch of her aching to feel him against her, skin on skin with nothing in between, for the foreseeable future. "Feyre, fuck."

"No more apologies. No more gentleness. I want this and I want you. Now. You asked me before what I was willing to claim." He took in a ragged breath, his eyes locked on hers as she threaded her fingers into his dark hair. "I claim every single part of my future. I claim you, Rhys. For the rest of my life, long or short as it may be, I claim you. Now take me to bed."

"As you wish, darling."

Rhys hauled her up into his arms, groaning as her nails bit into his scalp. Pleased by her mate's clear need for her, she wrapped her legs around his waist, scraping her teeth over the sensitive skin of his neck she'd discovered not-so-accidentally the night before.

"Needy little thing," he growled, not that he seemed to be in a much better state of mind at the moment. Seconds later her back hit the mattress in the nearest bedroom. "That's alright. I know just what to do with that."

She swallowed hard, watching him peel out of his shirt before joining her on the massive bed. "Rhys."

"My pretty little mate. Look at you." He planted a kiss on her throat, feather-soft, and meant to leave her burning for more. Frustrated with his teasing, she pushed up on her elbows, growling his name. Only to be given a sound of warning. His hand slid around the front of her neck, the softest touch carrying every bit of longing that was growing between them. "Patience will give you far more than pressure, my love. Now, be good for me."

And though part of her wanted to hate the gentle order, she couldn't ignore the other bit of herself that wanted to surrender to it. Rhys pulled her upright just long enough to strip her top before leading her back down onto the nest of pillows, his hips resting between her thighs to keep her legs parted.

Exposed to his whim and leisure might be more accurate.

While his mouth and left hand worked to tease her upper body, his right was keeping a steady rhythm over her clit, working the sensitive flesh through the fabric of her pants. "Stop teasing," she growled, teeth clenched as her irritation grew. "Rhys, I mean it."

"You and I were born to wear a mask. I am not afraid to let mine fall for you, Feyre. I am not afraid to give in to the madness of this bond. Let it fall," he urged, finally removing her pants. "Let me see your truth, Feyre. Let me see all of you."

She would. For him she would. "I need all of you, too, Rhys." Raising her hands, she gently stroked the smooth skin between his shoulder blades, a silent request.

She'd been cautious, asking Avyanna why she was the only sibling with wings. The girl hadn't hesitated to explain their peculiar ability to summon and hide their wings as half-breeds, and the discrimination they and their mother would sometimes see in the company of High Fae. It was why Rhys only exposed himself in Windhaven and Velaris.

Since they'd only had a few days together, Feyre had yet to see him in his full glory and her curiosity was undeniable. The only question now was if Rhys was willing to let her near them during such an intimate moment.

"You, Feyre, always." Her eyes widened as he summoned them, letting them open wide to display his full wingspan before tucking in to better suit their position. Awed at sight, her hand drifted up once again, pausing only when she recalled the disrespect it could be taken as. "It's okay."

Starting at the top bone, Feyre traced down the hard edges, marveling at the contrast of the bone and membrane with an artist's scrutiny, its silky texture only marred by the peppering of scars. "From the war?" she whispered.

"It certainly left its mark." Feyre wasn't so certain the tension in his voice had to do with dark memories as much as the physical torture she was inflicting. Delighted as he seemed to tease her earlier, sexual tension was still crackling between them, waiting for them both to yield to their instincts. She couldn't help but smirk, earning a soft growl. "Wicked thing."

She squealed as he pulled away, yanking her down to the foot of the bed. "We'll play later."

The first stroke of that silver tongue had her burning from the inside out, squirming beneath the weight of his forearm that now pinned her hips to the bed. "Rhys!" Chuckling, he gave another flick of his tongue before shifting to close his lips over her clit, fingers sliding home to curl inside her, feeling every bit as exhilarating as she'd been imagining the past three days.

"I could spend the rest of my life on my knees and die a very happy male." She whimpered, losing herself in the slow curl of his fingers and the drag of his tongue. Bared to him, head thrown back, quivering from top to toe, she had to be a sight. "Gorgeous," he purred into her mind. "Come for me, Feyre."

The scrape of his teeth sent her over the edge, gripping his hair tightly as she shattered. "My Feyre. Exquisite."

"Cauldron, Rhys."

He laughed again, his amusement cut off by her kiss as she raised herself to a sitting position and claimed his mouth. The blend of his taste and her own was heady, feeding the feral need building inside her once again. Breaking away, she sucked at the skin of his neck, nibbling along his collarbone until he was distracted enough she could shift his weight, pushing him down on his back.

Though he instinctively disagreed with the pressure against his wings, he seemed willing enough to let her have this moment. That was until she tried to reciprocate the service he'd done for her. "No," he barked. "My patience is wearing thin enough. While I'm dying to feel your mouth on me, all I can think about is being buried inside of you." He gripped her hips tight, repositioning her. "You're going to ride me, Feyre. Show me how you claim what's yours."

She didn't falter for long. Shifting over him, Feyre braced her hands on his shoulders, making sure she held his gaze as she sank down on his cock. That first stretch was bliss, strengthening the bond as they were joined in every way. It wouldn't take much to send her over the edge again, this time taking him with her. But she made herself slow her movements, basking in the heated bliss of their connection as he claimed her mouth again.

"Gods, if I could spend eternity like this..." He shifted beneath her, urging her to move faster and give them both what they needed. "Feyre. Fuck."

Buried deep inside of her, he came, triggering her release for the second time. When she finally came back to herself, she was curled up on top of him, head pillowed on his broad chest as he stroked her hair the same way he'd done each morning and night since they'd met.

A moment of peace before the urge to resume overtook them again. "I've never felt so out of control," Feyre murmured.

"Me neither."

Biting her lip, she smirked, nipping at his collarbone once more. "I can't say I mind what it leads to, though."

He gave her a full laugh, affection bleeding through it and warming every part of her. "I can't either."