Answered Dreams (ACOTAR | ACOMAF | ACOWAR)

Chapter ☆ Eight

Rhys shuddered inwardly at the tone of her voice, the edge it'd taken on. The sultry quality her voice now possessed made something in his stomach coil taught. Rhys' eyes followed every movement Feyre made, his tongue running over his bottom lip as she knelt before him. If this was punishment... He tried, and failed, to keep the cocky smirk from his face. He held her gaze as her hands grazed the exposed flesh of his stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He was growing more eager by the second, but he didn't lift a finger to help her with his pants.

She took her damn sweet time with his pants too, biting her lip as she finally finished with he last button and released the length of him front it's confines. He was a glorious sight, and she felt her mouth go dry as she just look at him, running her hand over his cock, a thumb grazing over the top, a nail running to the base and back up again.

Rhys allowed his head to fall back against the sofa, his eyes never leaving Feyre, watching what she was doing, savoring the feeling of her hand on his cock, slow and teasing as it was. He did not, however, allow his hips to buck up into her touch as they very nearly had. Rhysand's moan was a surprise even to him as her nail scratched the tender flesh of his length. Fuck, he thought. He turned to putty in her hand.

The moan from him was enough to drench her and a seductive smile curled on her lips as she kept his gaze and put her mouth on him. Her tongue made small circles around the tip, her tongue flicking against its underside before she took his length deeper into her mouth.

Cauldron damn him. Cauldron save him. He felt like a volcano, like he had a fire burning it's way through his body, pooling in the pit of his stomach. The origin of the heat not a mystery at all, to him. That mouth, that tongue, fuck. Her name on his lips as he moaned again, taking a fistful of sofa in his hand, his knuckles white. He would last, he would last, he would last. No, he wouldn't.

And just like that, she stopped. She slowly pulled her mouth off of him. She gave his cock a kiss, she smirked as her eyes met his, and she stood. Punishment delivered.

Rhys' brain stopped working for a moment as the warmth of her mouth left him. His eyes flew open and he growled when he realized just what she was doing, or the lack of what she intended to do.

With a satisfied smirk, she walked over to the chair across from the couch, crossed her legs, folded her hands in her lap, and watched him.

Rhys was on his feet in an instant, not bothering to conceal his raging length as he closed the distance between them. His face inches from hers, his hands braced on the arms of the chair on either side of her. "We're not finished," he growled.

Oh the sheer will it took for her to stay straight in that chair, matching his gaze unflinching. She wanted that cock in her hand, that length back in her mouth, she wanted to finish him, but the game... sometimes it was worth it. So Feyre held his gaze, those violet eyes staring into hers, and gave Rhys one of his own arrogant smiles. "Is that so?"

The arrogance, the confidence that she radiated was one of the sexiest thing Rhysand had ever seen. His cock grew harder as she stared him down. Even as everything in him roared and thrashed, needing release, he would play her game. That smile, however; a reflection of the one he so often wore himself... Instead of answering, Rhys acted. His arms were around her waist in a flash and then he was lifting her up into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. He was not gentle. His lips found hers, and this kiss was not heartfelt, it was not kind, or sweet. It was angry and hungry, and it was lecherous. His hands gripping her ass rather than her thighs to hold her up, to press her against him.

She didn't know if she should laugh, scream, or moan as Rhys picked her up with a ferocity she never expected. His lips crashed into her and she wondered if she pushed him too far, teased too much. He was not gentle and she did not want him to be. She wanted him to mark her, claim her, bite her, ride her, and as his hands grabbed onto her ass with such force she knew she was done for.