Answered Dreams (ACOTAR | ACOMAF | ACOWAR)

Chapter ☆ Three

"Punish me, hmm?" Rhysand's hearty laugh echoed off the walls, his mind racing at the thought.

He might let her.

But as he sat like that, between her legs, he only allowed himself a moment longer before he hooked his fingers in the fabric of her leggings, tugging them down over her hipbones, no longer as prominent as they had been when she'd first come to his court all those months ago.

Feyre had let out a gasp as the force of the removal of her leggings landed her on her back, but Rhys remained poised between her legs, like a mountain cat ready to pounce. "And I'd be more than willing to punish you for that deliciously filthy mouth of yours, Feyre darling," he mused as he took in the view before him.

And he tugged them down, down, down her thighs, and all but ripped them free as the fabric caught around her ankles. He almost bit his lip himself as more of her flesh was revealed, and he took a moment to sit back and appreciate the matching set of red lace underwear on display before him.

A growl escaped his lips, possessive and hungry, as he nudged her thighs farther apart gently with a hand before shifting to lay on his stomach. His face between her thighs and one arm curling around her left thigh as he allowed himself a better view of those lacy underthings.
And it seemed Feyre was more than happy to oblige as she angled her right knee up and out as though to allow him better access, and a hiss escaped from between his teeth as he licked his lips, the scent of her both suffocating and liberating him.

He would gladly drown in her.

Using his free hand to pull the thin layer of lace away from her core, he hardened further. His length straining against his tight-fitting trousers, and he shifted slightly on the mattress to get some sort of friction as he took her in.

Without further hesitation, Rhys leaned in, his tongue running up the slit of her core, the taste of her flooding his mouth. He moaned around it, his tongue pressing harder against her, his arm tightening around her thigh to keep her in place.

His name was on her lips the moment his tongue touched her, and Rhys grinned against her as he felt her body begin to writhe beneath his mouth - her back arched and her hips bucked as he worked his way over her, his tongue flicking one, twice, thrice over the little bundle of nerves at the apex between her thighs before licking lower, lower, lower. Slowly, he slid his tongue inside her.

Rubbing soothing circles along her thigh idly with one hand coiled around her leg, Rhys's free hand came up to rub at Feyre's bundle of nerves between her legs as his tongue began making deep, lazy thrusts in and out of her, savoring the taste of her on his tongue. He'd never grow tired of this.

Not in a million years.

But he couldn't help the shift of his hips, back and forth every so often, to grant himself some relief of the tension straining between his own legs. He barely noticed- it was all about her, her, her.

Her, with her spread out before him like his own personal feast to delight in as he pleased. His eyes again fell on the red lacy underthings and he groaned against her.

Feyre moaned his name again as his tongue- his fingers- tasted and played as she was spread out before him. His own personal feast, indeed, and she gasped, moaning out his name again as the waves of her climax began surging through her core.

Rhys couldn't help but keep his eyes open. Just to watch her. Watch her twist, and turn, and arch, and simply writhe beneath his touch. He had elicited those sounds from her, those gorgeously delicious sounds... he decided right then and there he would dedicate the rest of his immortal life to making her moan his name as many times as was possible for a High Fae.

He almost finished himself as she climaxed, his name on her lips as she came undone. He kept her hips pinned firmly to the bed as he slowed his movements, maintaining a steady rhythm to coax her through it. And once she settled down enough, Rhys slowly released her leg and, looking up to catch her gaze. Simply because he could, he made a show of licking his fingers clean as he stared up at her, grinning.

He deliberately took a long time of it. Just watching Feyre lay there, chest rising and falling with deep breaths after the euphoria that wrecked her so thoroughly.

She met his eyes, and that seemed to make her practically purr. She gathered her legs underneath her, shaky as they were, to crawl over to where he lay. He pursed his lips to refrain from grinning at his handiwork as she crawled towards him on those weakened legs. He opened his mouth to say something, a witty comment or retort, possibly, but he didn't get the chance.

Because she'd all but headbutted him with her lips.

Without a word she stopped in front of him, her lips crashing into his in a fury of teeth and tongue, her hands coming to his shoulders, pushing him back onto the bed. Rhys groaned against her lips as he returned that kiss, sinking his teeth into her lower lip and tugging. Feyre wasted no time in straddling him, grinding against him through the red lacy undergarments she still wore and his pants were still in the way, but they would be gone soon enough...

Oh, she was a wonder to behold, and she never stopped surprising him. She kept him on his toes, he never knew what to expect with Feyre. He made a small noise in the back of his throat as she shoved him onto his back. His hands found their way to her bare hips as she straddled his lap, running his thumbs back and forth across her hip bones, squeezing her sides lovingly, hungrily.

But, gods... if she kept moving like that...

"Play later," he growled, his grip tightening on her hips.

He was just about ready to flip her over onto her back and allow himself to finally to sheath himself within her. Even if it meant losing their little game.

He needed it.

He needed her.

But she broke herself away from the kiss, running her lips, her tongue, her teeth down his neck.

"Play now," was all she murmured into his ear as she nibbled on his lobe slightly, breathing in as she dragged her mouth to his collarbone, to his chest, tracing the whirls of his tattoo against his tan skin with her tongue.

He started this and it seemed she would be damned if he ended it.