bloodlust

18: Rhysand's POV

"There it is," he said smugly. He couldn't believe she'd actually said it, actually given him permission to take the thing he'd been longing after since the first time he laid eyes on her. His grip on her hair loosens slightly, but he doesn't fully let go. Just enought to allow her to breathe, to feel the shift in power.

His other hand slides up from inside her thigh to press between her shoulder blades, reminding her just how precarious her situation was at the moment, and just how easy it would be for her to fall to her death was he not there to protect her. She was trembling beneath his touch, but no complaints spilled from her lips.

"There's my good girl," he purred, "but I want to hear it again. Tell me what you want me to do to you, Feyre."

The sounds of their voices echoed off the stone and into oblivion. She took a steadying breath before her lips parted. He could see just how much this was taking out of her, and he wasn't ashamed in the slightest to admit that it made it all the more seductive to him. He liked seeing her squirm. Especially when he was the cause.

"I want you, Rhys," she sighed, and his smirk carved deeply across his face, dimpling his cheeks. It was the most glorious sound he'd ever heard. Her submission to him was beautiful. Just as he'd imagined all those times he'd touched himself imagining a moment like this, when she would willingly hand herself over to him. "I'm starting to think you're all talk."

His eyes flashed dangerously at her words. "All talk?" His laugh is low and genuine, a sound that vibrates against her back. "That fucking mouth of yours. It's going to get you in so much trouble tonight."

She shivered beneath him, her smart mouth suddenly having nothing to say. The hand not fisted in her hair drafts over her ribs above her thin white shirt. His fingers drifted upward over the swell of her breast, squeezing it in his palm, making her bite her lip to hold back the sound she almost made. He noticed, but didn't point it out.

His fingers deftly slid beneath her shirt, taking her nipple between his finger, slowly twisting and playing with it as he leaned back over her to murmur in her ear again. "Tell me you hate it," he said. "Go on, tell me to stop."

She arched into his touch silently, biting back a moan. His hand slid down her stomach, fingers pressing against your abdomen before slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. He let out a low, desperate noise without even meaning to as his hand slid lower, his middle finger sliding through her slit, slick with arousal.

His voice was a dark whisper in her ear. "You're so wet for me," he told her. "You've been thinking about this for a while, haven't you?" His finger slid through her wetness again, making him shiver.

"N-no," she stammered, mouth open as she breathed wildly.

"No?" He mocked her. "You're fucking soaked, Feyre. You're wonderfully aroused for someone you claim to abhor." He chuckled low and deep. She amused him in so many ways.

"I do despise you," she whimpered, rocking her hips slowly in a way that made his finger slide through her wetness again. He gritted his teeth at the sensation.

"Fuck," he said under his breath. "You're such a dirty little liar." He released her hair finally, allowing her to relax as his hands reached her hips.

His fingers hook into the waistband of her pants, snagging her underwear with it, slowly wiggling the fabric down her hips, heading to his knees behind her. Before she could turn and protest, he buried his face in her cunt.

She cried out, clinging to the metal railing for dear life as she squeezed her eyes shut again.

"Say it again," he said against her, the vibration of his voice making her whine. "Tell me you hate me while my face is buried in your pussy."

She moaned, pushing back against his mouth. "I hate you!"

"Yeah, you do, pretty girl," he encouraged her, gripping her thighs with his hands to pull her back harder against his face. Gods, she tasted Cauldron-blessed. It was unlike anything he'd ever tasted in his entire life. He could drink from her forever.

His tongue dived into her, deep and relentless. He released one hip, using his thumb to gently rub her clit while he fucked her with his tongue. The wet, obscene sounds echo off the stone walls, seeming to come back up from the void.

He licks her with passionate fervor, making her writhe and babble.

"Fuck, Rhys!" She yelped. He felt her getting tighter around his tongue, pulsing. He kept the exact same speed and pressure, feeling her nearing her orgasm and knowing what he was doing was working.

"That's right, wake the dead with how hard I'm going to make you cum!" His mouth returned to her, his tongue flat and broad as it laps at her center, then pointed and insistent when it's fucking her. His free hand slides up her back, pressing her down harder against the railing.

She came with a shrieked shout, gasping and blinking wildly. Sweat had once again slicked her hair to her neck and dampened her forehead. He licked her through the aftershocks before slowly rising to his feet.

She stood, face flushed bright red as she scrambled to put her clothes back on. He watched her, a flat look on his face. She quickly pulled on her clothing, careful not to look at him. He tilted his head, wondering what must be going through her brain.

"Can we get out of here? This place gives me the creeps," she said quickly, running her hands over her hair to smooth the wild tangles created by his fist, but not really making any difference. It was still a mess.

He finally wiped his mouth and chin, hating the thought of wiping away the essence of her, but knowing she'd firmly closed the door on the moment. "Running away so soon? You don't get to come on my face and then scurry off like I've offended you when you were moaning like a whore for me one minute ago."

She turns away from him to head back from where they'd come from. He caught her arm, making her face him. She looked down at his hand with wide eyes like she couldn't believe he'd grab her that way.

"You think this changed anything? That I'm going to be sweet to you now?" His lip curled slightly, his voice a venomous whisper.

She laughed in his face. Genuinely laughed directly in his face.

"You're pathetic," she scoffed. Then her eyes dropped down to where he was still painfully hard in his trousers. "And you're still hard. Get off me." She forcefully ripped her arm from his grip, leaving before he could offer a rebuttal. She quickly climbed back up and through the narrow passageway, only one thing on her mind. Getting the fuck away from Rhys.

She forced herself through the panic that threatened to suffocate her again by keeping her breathing steady and closing her eyes for most of the walk, imagining she was somewhere else. She'd be glad to be anywhere that wasn't here, bound to Rhysand.

She looked down at her sleeve that covered their bonding tattoo. She tried to keep it covered as much as she could, not needing a constant reminder that she was property now. Property that had crossed a line tonight she would never be able to uncross.

When she finally escaped the confines of the cave, she waited in the open area adorned with the jagged black crystals. He emerged a few minutes later, which caused her to think he must have stood there for a while after she'd left.

She didn't say a word as he winnowed them both back to his home. Without looking back or speaking to him, Feyre entered her room, slamming the door behind her and falling face first into her bed, screaming into her pillow.