Answered Dreams (ACOTAR | ACOMAF | ACOWAR)

Chapter ☆ Two

Oh, Feyre knew she was knee-deep in trouble the moment she sensed the shadows surrounding them as Rhysand winnowed them back to the townhouse.

She also made sure to send her taunting laughter down the bond - I won - as she moved her arms from his chest to around his neck as if she would, indeed, dance with him all night. But she knew it wasn't dancing he was interested in. Not anymore. Not at they stood there in each other's arms within the foyer of the townhouse.

He let a growl ripple through the darkness in response to her taunt - only because I let you - he seemed to say. But Feyre could tell he was just as much on the edge as she was, and the instant she wrapped her arms around his neck, he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he gripped her thighs.

Rhys's lips found their way to hers, his tongue running along her bottom lip, begging for entrance. More more more - was all she could think about, all she could shout down the bond as she held his face in her hands while she returned his kiss, nibbling ever so slightly on his bottom lip before opening her mouth to his, meeting his tongue with her own. Her body heated against his, and she ran her fingers through his blue-black hair, another moan escaping against his lips.

The wall - she practically begged... she'd happily take the wall.

But instead of obliging her, despite the hardness she could feel growing within his pants that made her adjusted herself ever so slightly against him as he held her, Rhys's grip on her thighs tightened as he quickly took control of the kiss. A long, low groan escaping his lips as he carried her upstairs towards the bedroom.

A smile formed upon her lips, and low a chuckle escaped her throat. "Don't you dare drop me," Feyre warned as he held her, the feeling of his hands tight against her making her wish those hands would start wandering to other places on her body.

"I wouldn't think of it," was his response as he rounded the corner of the hallway, grinning against her lips and gripping her tighter, holding her against him.

Rhys all but kicked the open the door, the knob knocking so hard against the wall behind it that Feyre could have sworn the house shook. But he barely noticed, and if he had, she doubted he would have given a damn. Not as he held her in his arms and carried her over to the bed, laying her down on her back, the expanse of his massive mattress spreading out beneath and around her.

He crawled on top of her, not breaking the kiss during any of it. His hands fell to the hem of her sweater, playing with it, raising it slightly higher to expose a strip of slightly tanned flesh on her abdomen. Another moan escaped her lips as his fingers gently grazed her stomach, but she had another idea in mind.

Something she had planned ahead of time, just in case she was to find herself in such a position with the High Lord of the Night Court.

Breaking from the kiss, her eyes remained on him, knowing the lust and desire in Rhys's violet eyes as he watched her was merely a reflection of her own. Sliding back ever so slightly, she sat up on the bed and removed her sweater on her own- not that she didn't want to give him the pleasure of doing so, but rather she wanted to make sure he got a good look at the lacy red underthings she wore underneath, just for him.

Only for him.

She leaned back on her elbows, smiling seductively up at him, allowing him full view and access as he so pleased.

His reaction was more than enough.

Rhys first opened his mouth as though to object, but stopped short as his eyes glazed over while he took in the red, lacy bra adorning her bosom. There was something to be said for a once-illiterate human rendering the most powerful High Lord into silence, and the rush that crashed over Feyre in her ability to do so was as much of an aphrodisiac as the look Rhys now gave her. Feyre watched him as he took it all in- the way it hugged and accentuated what she had naturally, yet giving her something a little extra for him to enjoy.

It took only a moment for him to crawl closer, inch by inch, his eyes never leaving her body as he did so. His gaze did quickly flicker to hers, and she knew she looked quite pleased and proud of herself to elicit such a reaction from him. But he simply smirked devilishly in response, reaching a finger to trace around the lace edges gracing her breast, and she had to bite her lip to keep a moan from escaping.

Gently, his touch a whispered promise as he dipped his head to her chest, his lips replacing his finger as he kissed along the outer edges of the red lace, and Feyre gasped wholeheartedly as he began kissing her chest over and over. She leaned back on one arm as her other hand returned to his head, running her fingers through his hair, her nails lightly grazing his scalp, the back of his neck. She knew the game he was playing- they would both undoubtedly draw out this game until they both grew talons and shredded the mattress to bits, but at that moment, as his kisses trailed along her chest, she would maintain her composure, even when she wanted to indeed tear that jacket to shreds and run her nails all over him.

As if in reply to her thoughts, Rhys skillfully slid out of his jacket, tossing it aside without taking his focus from the attention his lips were giving her bosom. But soon his kisses trailed down, down, down the crevice between her breasts, licking and nipping and sucking as he went. Down, down, down her abdomen, her navel, until he was kissing along the band of her pants. His fingers hooked in the material as he glanced up at her, as though asking for for permission, and she could have found completion by that look alone.

Instead, she let a mischievous smile play on her lips as she held his gaze. She knew what he wanted- what he needed to see for himself. And she would allow him that... eventually.

"Beg," she whispered.

Rhys's grin was slow growing, but wicked in its completeness. "I think that's my line," he purred, a breathy chuckle escaping his throat. Instead of begging, however, he contented himself to press a slow, lingering kiss to the apex between her thighs, through her leggings, before sitting back entirely.

"What can I say?" she growled at his teasing. "You're beginning to wear off on me." And growled again when he stopped.

Resting his weight back on his legs, he raised a brow at her. "I suppose I can't blame you for it if it's me you got it from. I'll just have to chastise myself for being so damned smug later." His wicked grin remained as he reached for the hem of his own shirt, slowly pulling it up, up, up, over his head and tossing it to the floor with the clothes they'd already shed.

And one glimpse of that arrogant smirk as he knelt there after removing his shirt had her drenched, but she would not give in- not yet. Not when they had all night and a townhouse all to themselves.

"I'll be more than happy to punish you for your smugness later," she smirked as she watched him from where she lay, allowing her own fingers to trail lazy circles around her breasts, across her stomach, idling by the band of her pants.

Waiting...