the high lord keeps interrupting azriel and his mate, until she finally has enough
warnings: 18+, achingly inaccurate to anything acotar, badly written brainstorming as usual, no usage of Y/N so probs a bit confusing at times, smut, azriel wanting employee of the month, (let me know if there’s anything else)
words: ~4.2k
It wasn’t uncommon for Azriel to be called by the High Lord at ungodly hours. His work was needed more than often at night, or over a multitude of days or weeks. Her mate's lack of a schedule meant that he’d been called from her more than once when they had been together, and she’d been understanding, until Rhysand seemed to have taken it upon himself to interrupt all her alone time with her mate.
-
“Right there, Az-,” she gasped, fingers tightening in the silky hair under her hand and forcing a growl from the male between her legs. “Oh, gods—“
Her head tipped back against the cold marble wall, eyes closed and face turned towards the high curved ceiling above her. The vacant hallway they had found themselves in was bathing in darkness, both from the usual depressing state of the Court of Nightmares, but also from Azriel’s shadows covering them both and hiding them from the potential threat of any straggling visitors. One of said shadows slid up her leg, under the opening of her dress messily pushed over her hips, passing over the big palm sprawled firmly over the entirety of her lower back, before teasingly drawing around to her front and caressing her cleavage heaving in the neckline of her dress.
A second growl vibrated against her pulsating heat, this time sounding less pleasured and more agitated. The difference was not lost on her, even with her hips desperately grinding down on his tongue, searching for a release from the pleasure coursing through her. The hand on her lower back pulled lower, and for a blissful second she thought his irritation was sourced from her squirming, that she’d receive a sharp slap on the flesh he was digging his fingers into and perhaps a growled warning to Stay still.
The thought alone had her core curling tight, breaths shortening in preparation for an orgasm — that faded away to dust when her mate pulled away with an even angrier sound she knew wasn’t aimed at her.
“It’s Rhys.”
The panted exclamation had her tilting her head forward with a quiet groan, eyes sliding open to find Azriel peering up at her from where he was kneeling at her feet, hazel eyes glassed over and jaw clenched tight as he communicated with the High Lord.
“He’s asking for us.” His voice came from the back of his throat, thick and strained.
She licked her lips, heart pounding in her chest and thighs still tensed in the promise of the shattering orgasm she had been seconds away from.
“Right now?” She pointlessly asked, already knowing the answer.
“Right now.” Azriel confirmed as he eased her leg off his shoulder, careful of her sharp heels near his wings.
Another quiet groan slipped past her lips, and this time she tilted her head back in exasperation, making no move to help the warm calloused hands tugging her dress down into place again.
“I hate him.” She grumbled and watched Azriel stand, straightening in front of her.
“Don’t pout, angel,” He tilted her chin up with a finger, giving her a soft peck before pulling away with a quietly amused expression. “I’ll make it up to you later.”
She gave him a glare without any real malice behind it, mostly to wind him up a little for later.
“You better.”
-
He didn’t make it up to her that night. As usual, their visit in the Court of Nightmares didn’t end without trouble, and Rhysand had sent his Spymaster out on a mission before they’d even returned to Velaris. She didn’t know the specifics of the mission, most of the time she didn’t want to know beforehand. It saved her the sleepless nights and worries about if this would be the time he didn’t make it back. With only her imagination she could pretend he was safe and sound, that Rhysand had sent him to check the water levels in the ocean or anything else without any dangers.
The only sign of his distance was the mating bond growing restless, perhaps it had also been fueled by the way he’d been taken from her, but when Azriel returned after a week, she was starving for him.
She was cleaning up in the kitchen after dinner when the mating bond tightened at the same time something familiar brushed against her leg. Looking down, she found a stray shadow coiling around her ankle, eagerly swirling up the expanse of her calf.
Dishes long forgotten, she quickly wiped her hands and hurried out to the foyer, smile widening as the sound of the door opening reached her ears. More shadows flocked her, she payed them no mind as threw herself into their master’s awaiting arms. Azriel lifted her easily off the ground, winding her legs around his hips. His wings, as always, wrapped around them as if shielding them from the world.
She hugged him tighter and buried her face into his neck, drowning herself in his scent.
“Welcome home, my love.” Her words were muffled against the warm skin of his neck.
His smile widened enough for her to feel it against her shoulder before he quietly breathed out, “I missed you so much, angel.”
The plans to have him take a seat at the dining table and feed him the plate of leftovers she’d spared for him just in case, flew out of her head the second his hand tangled in her hair and guided her mouth to his. Kissing Azriel was always mind-numbing and consuming, especially when she hadn’t seen him in a week. It left her desperately holding onto him, fingers pulling through his messily tousled hair as if she could force him even closer. She barely registered him winnowing, only the sudden tilt of her world when he fell back on their bed with her still on top of him.
Planting her knees on the mattress, she straddled his lap as her fingers danced over his leathers, unbuckling and unlacing the sleek buckles and laces. She’d done it countless times, could probably do it blindfolded with her hands tied if she really needed to.
Azriel sighed happily against her lips when she shedded the jacket and undershirt off him, discarding it to the bedroom floor. Her palms greedily slid over his abdomen, taking in the toned muscles honed from centuries of hard training. Another breathy sound emitted from him, this time caused by her hips circling over his lap, grinding down on the hard bulge underneath her.
“Gods-, I missed you.” He repeated as his hands palmed up her thighs, sliding under the oversized shirt that was probably one of his old ones.
“Missed you too.” She panted, pulling back and reaching for the edge of the shirt to lift it over her head. He stopped her, hazel eyes burning wildly and lips swollen as he blinked up at her.
“Leave it on.”
Giving a half-minded nod, she leaned forward to continue when he suddenly stilled underneath her.
“Rhys wants my mission report.” He pulled away to talk, words halfway muffled into the kiss.
“Mhm.” She kissed him again, reveling in the taste of him after a long week without him. This time he reciprocated fully, slow and indulging, fueled by the same longing she was feeling.
“I have to go, angel.” He protested half-heartedly against her lips, filling his palms with handfuls of her backside.
“Tell him he can wait.” She tried to persuade him, trailing her kisses lower, down over his collarbones and to the muscular planes of his chest.
Azriel sighed wearily, hands falling from her body to the mattress with a dull thump. Pulling back, she sat up in his lap and stubbornly crossed her arms.
“You know I can’t do that.” He said, the smooth drawl of his voice even softer than usual, hazel eyes round and pleading.
“How long will it take?” She asked, having a bad feeling it wasn’t going to be a quick affair.
“A few hours.” Azriel confirmed her suspicions, giving her an apologetic look.
With a reluctant sigh, she slid off his lap and settled into bed.
“Tell Rhys I hate him.” She drawled sarcastically when he reached for his undershirt from the floor, swiftly pulling it over his head.
“He already knows.” He teased, eyes glinting with quiet amusement when she rolled her eyes.
“Go now, shadowsinger. I’ll wait up for you.” She hurriedly waved him off, wanting him to return quicker. Azriel chuckled, shaking his head with a smile before he left.
She tried to wait up for him, but eventually fell asleep. Half-expecting the bed to be empty she was more than happy when she woke up in the comforting warmth of her mate’s arms, his snores low against the top of her head.
The first tired rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, bathing the bedroom in a warm glow and forcing her to blink a few times to adjust her eyes to the light. Azriel’s deep breaths over her head kept steady, the sound alone made her smile. She could spend hours like this, there was nowhere she felt more safe or comfortable than in his embrace, but the nagging reminder that he hadn’t eaten anything yesterday made her mind restless.
Lifting his arm slowly, she tried to slide out of his grasp without waking him. As if wanting her to fail, the shadows that had been idly dispersed around the room took notice of her, and before she could dismiss them, dark tendrils were leisurely crawling up on the bed and reaching out to affectionately stroke her cheek.
She knew from experience it was no use to ask them to leave now, and relaxed back against their master right before his arms tightened and forced her to him again.
“Stay.” The blunt order sounded less commanding with his sleep-coated voice, barely more than a low rumble from the back of his throat.
“I was going to make you breakfast.” She said, softly tracing her fingers over his arm firmly secured around her waist. His face buried in her shoulder, soft black hair tickling her cheek when he simply shook his head.
“Later.” He gruffly replied, hand dipping under her camisole before his warm palm sprawled over her stomach.
“But you must be hungry. You’ve probably barely eaten, and you didn’t have dinner yesterday-,” Her worried rant was interrupted by a bite to the curve of her shoulder, words disappearing from her when his soft lips replaced his teeth and left a trail of soothing kisses over her bare skin.
“I’m fine, angel. Let me hold you for a second.” He murmured and buried his face in her neck, hand on her stomach pulling her closer.
With her backside flush to his hips, a new sort of heat spread across her body, flaring outwards from the depths of her core. He shifted behind her, as if to get comfortable, and the heavy, hot length of him ended up nestled against her backside. Suddenly the big palm on her stomach, pinky finger casually slipped underneath the waistband of her panties, didn’t feel so casual anymore. Neither did the arm secured under her chest, warm hand firmly planted on one of her covered breasts.
Her body seemed to have been reminded of the pleasure it had been denied, not once but twice, in a short amount of time, nerves coming to life under his touch. But it was too selfish to shove his hand down her panties and arch her back in offering. He had been working. He needed sleep.
She repeated those sentences as she tried to will her burning body to calm down and keep her self-control in check to not let the overwhelming desire control her.
The pattern of his breaths suddenly changed.
Her brows furrowed in confusion before she realized what was happening. She tried to turn her head to glare at him, but his face firmly buried in her shoulder stopped her.
“You’re a fucking idiot, Azriel.” She hissed when his chest shook with another round of silent laughter.
“I’m sorry,” Azriel chuckled, not sounding apologetic at all. His hand on her stomach slid slightly lower, ring finger dragging along the edge of her panties. “You’re too sweet.”
Whatever insult that had been spewing on her tongue was forgotten when he tilted his head, pressing a slow kiss to the side of her neck as one of his wings folded over them.
“Will you ever forgive me?” He murmured, still a teasing edge to his voice even as he snuck a leg between her own, hoisting her thigh to rest on his and leaving her spread open for him.
“I’ll have to-,” Her words caught in her throat when his fingers slid her panties to the side, softly grazing her folds. She swallowed thickly to clear her throat. “Think about it.”
Curling his fingers up to her swollen clit and rubbing lazy circles over the sensitive nub aching for attention, he hummed in acknowledgement, “Mhm.”
The circles on her clit tightened, grew slightly rougher, and she had no hope of holding back the gasped moan coming from her chest. His other hand slipped beneath the top of her camisole, rolling her perked nipple between skillful fingers. The pleasured pain shot like lightning down her spine, leaving her cunt clenching around nothing and eyes falling shut. Another open-mouthed messy kiss was placed on the side of her throat, surely leaving marks she’d have to cover today.
“Did you touch this pretty little cunt for me while I was gone?” Azriel husked against her skin, sounding like he already knew the answer. Which he probably did, considering he somehow always knew exactly what she had been up to when he was gone.
She shook her head, mouth parting around a soft gasp when two of the long thick digits slowly pressed inside her.
“No?” The pleased smirk on his face was so big it could be heard in his voice, making her body flush with warmth. “Such a good girl, aren’t you? Waiting for me to take care of you.”
His fingers thrusted into her in a steady pace, not with the purpose to make her come, but to ready her for something else. However with her body so high-strung, the friction of his fingers along her tightened walls had stars dancing across her eye-lids. And when they curled, pressing against that soft spot she couldn’t reach herself, a sharp gasp tumbled out of her as her body tensed, prepared to unfurl at the next touch.
“Not yet, angel,” Azriel reprimanded, hand pulling away from between her legs and forcing a pitiful whimper from her at the loss. “You’ll only come on my cock.”
That promise had her mind reeling and hips instinctually arching back towards him.
“Please, Az-, I want it so bad-,” She sounded like a wanton whore, and she felt like one too when he shifted behind her, one arm still wound tight around her frame as he pushed his underwear down his legs.
A shadow wrapped itself around her upper thigh, suspending her leg higher over his muscular thigh and exposing her fully to the otherwise empty bedroom. She reached a hand back to curl around the back of his neck as his breaths grew labored beside her ear, giving himself a few careless tugs before his cock nudged at her pulsating heat.
Right when relief was in her grasp, he suddenly stilled, forehead coming to rest heavily against her shoulder as he let out a heavy sigh.
“No.” The dreadful exclamation flew out of her, sensing where her mate’s attention had gone when the shadows around them hesitantly drew away, somehow taking with them all the boiling tension that had been simmering around them.
“He has another mission for me.” Azriel’s exhale was low.
“But you just came back,” she found herself complaining, even if she knew it meant absolutely nothing. Turning in his hold to slide her palms over his chest and the Illyrian markings sweeping up his neck, she filled her eyes with as much pleading as she could. “Please, Az.”
He sighed again, hazel eyes full of warmth as he peered down at her pouting face.
“I’ll only be a few days. It’s a follow-up from this past week.” He explained, gently caressing her cheek with his knuckles.
“He can’t send you away when you’ve barely been home twelve hours! You need to eat too!” She argued, voice raising when she once again remembered that he hadn’t had dinner last night.
He visibly tried to fight it, but one corner of his mouth tilted in a slanted grin. The sight of the dimple in his cheek brightened the turmoil in her head slightly.
“I promise to eat.” He cooed, clearly amused at her worried state.
The pout on her face deepened, both at the implication that he was leaving and the sparkling mirth in her mate’s eyes.
“I’ll know if you lie.” She threatened, intertwining their hands and pressing them over her heart.
Azriel’s expression softened as he leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead.
“I’d never lie to you, angel.”
She was still pouting as she watched him dress, the leathered uniform black as night even in the rising sun, siphons glowing brightly when he braced a hand on the bed and leaned over to give her a sweet kiss.
“Three days.” Azriel reminded as he pulled away.
“I love you. Be careful.” Her heart squeezed in her chest when he gave her another one of those dimpled grins that were reserved only for her.
“I love you more.” And with that he was gone, leaving her to plot her revenge for herself.
-
It was a carefully crafted plan. It had to be, with both Feyre and Rhysand’s ability to thread into her mind and see exactly what she had up her sleeve.
She proposed some girl time to Feyre, and they made plans to go around town for an afternoon. During their stroll and mindless window shopping, she guided Feyre into the boutique at the end of the promenade, the one with lush velvet curtains and sparkling chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The one with one-of-a-kind handcrafted lingerie.
Under the guise that she had to pick up an ordered set, she pointed Feyre to the selective pieces of soft lace and shiny silk hanging along the walls. It was an easy feat to get her into the dressing room, even easier to plant the idea in her head.
“You know, Azriel goes crazy for these,” She toyed with the lace colored in a particular shade of blue in her hands, watching Feyre twirl in the dressing room. The High Lady peered at her through the mirror, curiosity shining in her blue eyes. “I like to make it into a game. To tease him. Whenever I buy anything new I put on a revealing dress over, just barely showing off the edges of the bra, or the outline of the garter-belt. It usually has him on his knees in no time.”
Curiosity morphed into something else, something rather dark and wicked. And when the corner of Feyre’s mouth itched upwards before she asked the clerk, Do you have this in any other colors? — it was abundantly clear her plan had worked.
She smiled all the way home. Throughout her lonely dinner. When she pulled forth the ingredients to bake. As she packed the baked goods in a basket, draping the sweetness in a soft cloth.
When Feyre opened the door, cheeks slightly flushed and a silk robe carelessly tugged around her lithe body, flashes of black lace peeking out from the opening, she had to tune down the victorious grin wanting to carve her face. She’d timed it perfectly.
“Do you have a moment?” She innocently inquired, raising the basket with warm pastries to bring the younger fae’s attention to it.
Perhaps it was cruel to use Feyre’s kindness like this, but she reminded herself that the High Lord the kind girl had the displeasure of being mated to was far more evil.
“Of course.” Feyre smiled, a forced and rushed expression, as she opened the front door wider.
The High Lady and Lord’s house was as warm and inviting as always, especially with the candles lit around the living and dining room, clear evidence of a romantic evening.
Feyre walked her towards the sitting area, gesturing for her to have a seat in one of the couches as she did the same. Taking her time to place the basket on the table and make herself comfortable in the plush leather couch, she almost missed when the High Lady gracefully hid a piece of fabric that looked suspiciously close to a dress behind the decorative pillows.
“These are my favorites.” Feyre politely remarked, leaning forward and reaching for one of the freshly baked pastries in the basket.
“I’m glad you like them-,” She was interrupted by a presence that seemed to be vibrating with powerful darkness.
“What are you doing here?” Rhysand’s tone offered no politeness, unlike his graceful wife. His eyes narrowed in accusation when she innocently smiled up at his rigid form stood rooted in the doorway to their open living room.
“I made cardamom buns, and I remembered how much Feyre liked them last time-,”
“You came over now, with pastries?” His accusatory gaze pointedly glanced out the windows, to the pitch black darkness outside.
“Rhys.” Feyre hissed quietly, catching onto the unfamiliar irritation clouding the High Lord.
“I had no one else at home to share them with.” She answered, tilting her head to the side when Rhysand merely stared at her as if trying to force her out of his house without speaking. Centuries of friendship with the male had her knowing exactly what he was asking of her.
What do you want? His voice flooded her mind the second the dropped a portion of her mental shields.
Call Azriel back and give him a month off work.
He huffed out an unamused scoff, You had three months when you mated. You can have a day.
She fought back the urge to roll her eyes. That was centuries ago. A week without any disturbance. That’s my last offer.
His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing into slits.
Don’t test me, Rhys. I can show her the recipe. She threatened, filling her tone with as much conviction as she could.
Fine. One week. If he’s not back well-rested I’m blaming you.
“Well, I should head home.” She cleared her throat and offered Feyre a smile as the presence in her mind retreated.
The younger fae’s eyes widened, almost apologetically. “Oh, you don’t have-,”
“Sounds like a great idea,” Rhysand interrupted his wife, turning to almost point towards the front door. “It is awfully late.”
“I’ll leave these for you two,” She gestured to the basket of freshly baked pastries on the table as she headed out of the room, shooting Rhysand a quick smirk. “Trust me, you’ll need them after you’ve seen her in the red set.”
After winnowing home, she headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. It only took a few minutes before the door to the ensuite creaked open, Azriel’s tall statue filling the doorframe.
“Welcome home, my love.” She smiled, running the brush in her hand over her hair.
It took him less than two strides to cross the distance between them, arms winding around her from behind before his head tilted down to press a sweet kiss to her cheek.
“What did you do?” His eyes met hers through the mirror as he straightened again.
“I don’t know what you mean.” She feigned innocence, leaning back into his embrace.
“You had nothing to do with Rhysand telling me he won’t be contacting me for a week?” He tilted his head down again, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Or that he called me back and told me to go home to my freakishly stubborn mate?”
“He said that?” A smile lifted her lips, growing further when her mate breathed out a low chuckle.
“I think he wanted to say even more. He sounded a little agitated.”
“You know how he is. Always in a mood.” She teased, breaking their eye-contact to place the hairbrush in her hand back on the counter. With the movement, the opening of her robe widened and bared more of her chest.
The grip on her hips tightened, fingers digging into the silk of her robe as the siphons on the back of his hands flared with the same color as the lace of her lingerie now deliberately on show.
“I was thinking we could go up to the cabin, or I could ask Helion if we could spend a few days-,” The rest of her sentence dissolved into a cut-off gasp when she was abruptly bent over at the waist, shadows quickly dampening her fall to the granite counter.
“Or I’ll have you right here for the rest of the week.” Azriel stated, bluntly pushing the bottom of the robe over her arched hips.
“How unexciting.” She countered, albeit a bit breathlessly when the expensive lace adoring her backside was roughly ripped down to pool at her ankles.
Azriel laughed, a foot nudging between her own and forcing her legs apart. “Good thing we have plenty of time to make it exciting.”
(thank you so much for the support on my first post. much love xx)
obsessed with a private, not secret relationship for azriel and his mate.
warnings: 18+, painfully inaccurate to anything acotar, badly written brainstorming, no usage of Y/N so probs a bit confusing at times, a sprinkle of smut, multi pov, not a main part — but mentions of alcohol, (let me know if there’s anything else)
words: ~3.5k
He never spoke of her. Ever. Not even to his brothers.
Partly because neither Rhysand nor Cassian had found their mates, and he wasn’t particularly fond of rubbing it in their faces. But mostly because of the nature of his job, and the people wanting to harm him.
Before her, he hadn’t cared. Younger Azriel had welcomed the challenge of someone trying to get their revenge on him. Had more than once sought it out. After her, there was only one way to harm him, and that was through her. And if no one truly knew what she meant to him, even his own brothers, she would be safe. It was his reasoning for keeping her so close to his heart.
-
“Do you think they even fuck?” Cassian’s slurred whisper was both harsher and louder than he probably intended, caused by the hearty amount of drinks he’d consumed through the night. It was the start of summer, and they’d had a dinner party for some guests at the House of Wind. Azriel and his mate had arrived together, but as usual had kept distance to each other all night, not even sharing a word with one another. It was honestly impressive how little they could seem to care about each other after being mates for so many years.
With Cassian’s question at the forefront of his mind, Rhysand remembered the times he’d called for the spymaster, sometimes in dark hours of the night, and been met by even shorter responses than usual, often breathless, gruff. The spymaster could’ve been training, sparring, honing his swordsmanship, or more likely partaking in other activities that had nothing to do with his role to the court. But looking at Azriel and his mate now, it wasn't hard to believe the former.
“No. They probably shake hands, and then go to their separate bedrooms.” He drawled quietly, idly aware of the shadows curling around his brother’s frame.
Cassian snorted out a laugh, broad shoulders shaking with the effort to hold back the sound. Rhysand’s own lips lifted in an amused smirk, sparing a glance back at the shadowsinger to make sure he still hadn't acknowledged their conversation. He hadn’t, and when Rhysand turned his gaze back to Cassian, there was something challenging swimming in his brother's dark half-lidded eyes.
“Let’s try to make one of them break. Whoever does it first wins. Loser has to fly naked to the mountains and back.”
The smirk on Rhysand’s face widened. Even if it was probably below him and small-minded, the idea of breaking Azriel’s stoic and collected facade was dangerously tempting.
“Deal.” He clasped Cassian’s hand firmly, sealing the bet.
-
A week later they were all at Rita’s.
She had been dancing with her friends for what felt like hours when she excused herself to grab a drink. The bar was busier than usual, most likely an effect of the High Lord’s presence. She waited for her turn, fanning her hand to her face in an attempt to cool herself down, the lone cold shadow sweeping over her back doing as much as it could to help her. Even in the minuscule dress she was wearing, she was still sweating from dancing pressed tightly together with the rest of the bustling crowd. Right as she grabbed the attention of a bartender, the relief of an iced beverage minutes away, someone squeezed into the sliver of space between her and the person next to her, effectively blocking her view.
“Hello, beautiful.” The tall fae male gave her a blinding smile and rested his arm on the counter, crowding her in.
She blinked up at the stranger in confusion, before turning her head to wave for the bartender.
“Can I buy you a drink?” He continued, leaning into her space again.
The bartender had continued serving another guest, and all the others were at the very far end of the other side of the bar, out of her reach.
She turned her attention back to the unknown male who was still giving her one of those charming looks that he probably thought made him handsome, and sighed.
“You know what? Yes, you can buy me a drink. Something cold, please.” She forced a smile when the male’s face lit up. He turned quickly, long arms and tall statue gathering the attention of one of the bartenders that she’d failed at signaling. Whilst his attention was elsewhere, more cold whisking darkness suddenly crept up her legs, joining the one already on her in comfortably wrapping around her.
After the male had ordered, he focused on her again, forcing her attention from the familiar shadows.
“I have to say, you are one of the most beautiful females I’ve ever seen.” His arm was back on the counter, nearly grazing her cleavage that was left mostly exposed with the low neckline of her dress. She glanced up at him with an unimpressed look on her face, finding him staring straight down at the swell of her breasts.
Before she could call him out on it, the bartender pushed their drinks up on the bar. She snatched one of the already condensed glasses and left some money on the bar before quickly making her escape.
“Thank you,” She offered a tight smile, raising her glass. “I have a mate.”
His charming grin fell, eyes widening on her, not even noticing his drink getting stolen by another thirsty guest.
“But they said-,”
She didn’t stay to hear the rest of whatever he had to say, already pushing into the crowd on the dance floor again.
In one of the few booths, Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel were in a game of cards when Cassian’s gaze had drifted over the room. It didn’t take Azriel long to catch his brother’s straying attention, eyes lifting from the cards in his hands to find the Lord of Bloodshed watching the crowd with a silently amused expression.
“Already giving up, Cass?” He teased, reaching for his drink on the table.
The ghost of a smirk on Cassian’s face solidified, dark eyes narrowing on something further away towards the bar.
His voice was deceptively light-toned when he exclaimed, “Your girl seems thirsty.”
Azriel turned his head in the same direction Cassian was staring at, finding her in a heartbeat. She was conversing with another male, the side of her face glowing in the low twinkling lights of the bar, long wavy hair cascading down to her waist and grazing the small of her back. Without really meaning to, his eyes pulled lower, over the tempting curve of her hips and lush backside accentuated in the tight material of the dress she was wearing.
He had picked it out for her tonight for a reason, the way it exposed her thighs and clung onto her every curve had Azriel salivating at the mere sight. Even more so when she turned, the low neckline leaving his jaw aching with the need to sink his teeth into the soft flesh on display. Whilst blatantly staring, he caught the flush spread on her chest and discreetly sent more of his shadows to cling to her, hoping it would help cool her down.
“It is warm in here.” He stated simply, turning back to his brothers who were now both watching him.
“You’re going to let another male buy her a drink?” Cassian’s eyebrows rose to his forehead, wide eyes darting between the bar and Azriel.
His shadows relayed every piece of information to him, how the idiot at the bar was gawking down her dress, getting closer to her. But also her desperation for a cold drink, her unenthusiastic expression whenever he tried to compliment her, her longing to get back on the dance floor with Mor and her friends.
“She can handle herself.” Azriel shrugged, knowing it was true. He also knew she would signal if she was uncomfortable with the attention, and that his actions would be completely different in that case.
Rhysand shook his head, chuckling under his breath, “I envy you, brother.”
He didn’t sound like he did. Azriel didn’t point it out.
“You will once I win all your money.” He opted for instead, the corner of his mouth tipping upwards when his brothers returned to the cards in their hands.
-
It was Starfall, and the townhouse was strangely bustling with people. For some reason Rhysand had extended invitations further than the Inner Circle this year, something that had never happened before, to her knowledge at least. Some of her friends from the school she was volunteering at had turned up, so she wasn’t complaining, in fact she’d had a great evening.
She glanced at the clock hung on the wall. It was nearing midnight, not close enough to have the crowds moving out to the garden, but enough to make her excuse herself from her friends that had been hanging out in the kitchen and make her way towards the living room.
The sounds of people talking in the bigger room, almost drowned out the instrumental music flowing from the small band Rhysand had hired for tonight. She still took time to send the guitarist a smile, one of her old students from nearing ten years ago.
Even crowded, the living room in the townhouse held a familiar warmth and coziness she doubted any of the High Lord’s raucous parties could destroy. She slid her gaze over the room as she made her way to the bookcase where Rhysand had stowed away his finest wine. Partly on the lookout to not get caught, and partly to linger her eyes over the presence that had been haunting her peripheral for longer than she cared to admit.
Azriel was stood near one of the large windows facing the Sidra, leaning against the frame with his arms firmly crossed over his chest, hazel eyes cast downwards and mouth quirked up into what she could decipher as a ghost of a polite smile. At first she thought him alone, but then she spotted the smaller statue perched in front of him. A female.
She stayed near the bookcase and kept her eyes on the pretty brunette as she reached for the wine bottle hidden behind a stack of books. The female kept talking, her glossy plump lips drawn up into a shy smile and cheeks flush with a sheepish blush. It was clear she was nervous, there was no need for Azriel’s spymaster abilities to see it, she kept touching her hair and casting her doe-eyes down to the floor as her blush deepened.
She almost felt sorry for the poor girl. If anyone knew how intimidating Azriel could be, it was her. But she couldn’t help but linger on the entertainment, taking sips of the perfectly aged wine as the girl kept fluttering her long lashes at her mate. When Rhysand stepped up to her with knowing look on his face, she did nothing but smirk at him over the rim of her glass.
“You’re not going to do anything about that?” He pushed, curiosity swimming in his violet eyes.
She drowned her glass, the smooth cherry liquid warming her insides, and pushed it into the High Lord’s conveniently empty hand. Azriel’s brothers had never understood, always poking to provoke any reaction.
“He knows his way home.” She stated simply, waving her fingers in a small wave before leaving as Rhysand stared after her, baffled and defeated.
She barely made it to the gate before black smoky tendrils started crawling up her strutting legs.
“Leaving so soon?” His deep voice was nearer than she expected, steps silent behind her clicking heels.
“Surprised?” She mused, turning her head slightly to catch a glimpse of the angel of death towering behind her. He was a sight to behold, as usual, dark pants and dress shirt clinging perfectly to his sculpted frame, jacket left open even in the cold winter air, wings as black as the night sky stood proudly behind him, framing the achingly beautiful face she had the privilege to wake up to every morning. The gleaming bond in her chest tightened without meaning to, at the sheer love she felt looking at him.
“Never.” He drawled, long legs catching up to her before she could open the gate leading to the pathway into town. His warm hand stopped her own from pushing down the handle, making her turn her head again to look up at him.
Azriel had already tilted his head down towards her, the heat of his body bleeding against her back.
“Missed me?” She smiled, reaching her free hand to curl around the back of his neck, gently pulling his head down further.
“Always.” He mumbled, hazel eyes flickering down to her lips as his head lowered slowly. The warmth of his breath washed over her mouth and her eyes were just about to flutter close when she caught movement in one of the big windows facing the Sidra and front lawn.
“Why are Rhysand and Cassian staring at us?” Her sudden question had Azriel straightening and whirling his head around in the direction she was already looking in.
The two dark silhouettes moved comically fast, scrambling from the window like it hadn’t been abundantly clear that they’d been staring. It took less than five seconds for Azriel’s shadows to dart towards the house and return, eagerly curling around their master’s ears.
Her brows furrowed in confusion when Azriel’s face went from blatant surprise to recognition, and then landed in an eerily hard set of his jaw.
“What is it?” She inquired softly, making him shake his head and push down the handle to the gate, guiding her onto the path towards town with a palm sprawled over her lower back.
“They’re fucking idiots.” He grumbled, dark eyes fastened on the bridge about to lead them over the Sidra. She was still confused by his reaction, and the conflict of emotions flickering along the bond between them. Anger, frustration and protectiveness, paired with an urge to claim that left her skin heating beneath her coat. His shadows kept twirling around him, relaying information that made his mood sour even further.
She stopped him on the bridge, fully turning towards him to make his now darkened cold gaze land on her. His eyes thawed almost immediately, making way for the golden warmth in the mesmerizing hazel.
“Can we talk about it tomorrow?” She closed the distance between them, hugging her arms around his middle. In her heels she was tall enough to press a kiss to the underside of his clenched jaw, and brush the cold tip of her nose against the column of his throat before leaving lingering kisses there too. If Rhysand and Cassian were still in the window, they would most likely be able to see them, but she couldn’t have cared less. She soothingly traced her palms up his back and murmured softly, “I’d like to go home.”
Azriel relaxed around her, strong arms wound around her frame and crushed her tighter to him. Without warning, he pushed off the ground, wind howling around them as he flew them home.
The next morning Azriel told her about the bet between Rhysand and Cassian, how they had tried to provoke a reaction by lying to people and pointing them in her and Azriel’s direction for months. Some smaller interactions, like how the male working at her favorite bakery had suddenly asked her out on a date, or bigger ones, like that male from Rita’s who Cassian sent her way.
At first she’d laughed, curled up in Azriel’s arms in their shared bed, amused at the thought of Rhysand and Cassian so desperate to see them together that they’d tried to force it. Azriel hadn’t found it as funny, or funny at all.
“I’ll snap their necks.” He’d muttered into her hair, hands digging into her bare hips.
“Then they would win, wouldn’t they?” She’d light-heartedly reminded, drawing shapes over the swirling Illyrian markings on his shoulders.
He’d pulled back, hazel eyes wild with something that made her pulse quicken, a dimpled grin growing on his face. “I have an idea.”
-
Skin slapping against skin reverberated around the room, mixing with lewd wet sounds and shamelessly loud moans. One of her hands were buried in his black soft hair, the other placed on the desk behind her to keep herself upright as Azriel pounded into her with a furious intensity.
He grunted against her neck, parted mouth gliding over the delicate curve of her shoulder before he sank his teeth into the skin, forcing a loud gasp from her at the sudden flash of pain.
“That’s it, angel,” His breaths grew heavier as her cunt clamped down on him. “So fucking tight-, you feel so fucking good-,”
His large hands gripped the fat of her backside tighter, forcing her body to meet his unrelenting powerful thrusts. Heat grew in her core with every precise slam of his cock against that soft spot inside her. She was so close, head tipped back, nails carving into the back of his neck and polished wood of the expensive desk below her, when the door to the office opened.
“I don’t know where he is. He wasn’t home-,” Cassian’s loud booming voice stopped abruptly, and if she hadn’t been dizzyingly near from tumbling over the edge, she would’ve turned her head to laugh at the dumb-struck look on both Rhysand and Cassian’s faces.
Instead, her back arched out of pure instinct, legs tightening around the hips still driving into her to draw him as close as possible as her cunt began to clench around him.
“She’s about to come. So you better get the fuck out.” The growled warning from her mate had her clinging onto him tighter, the unbearable heat in her core unfurling in a flash when he used the grip on her backside to slam her cunt down on his cock, spearing her hard and deep.
She wasn’t sure if Rhysand and Cassian made it out in time. Truthfully, she didn’t care.
She came with a strained moan of his name, cunt squeezing and fluttering around him as he followed with a heavy groan against the mark on her shoulder. Warmth flooded her core with every instinctual thrust of his hips, the bond between them purring with satisfaction at the claiming.
It took her a few moments to come back to her own, bare chest heaving with panted breaths as he buried his face into her neck, bruising grip on her backside loosening to a possessive caress.
“I love you.” She smiled dumbly, carding her fingers through his hair.
He laughed, a low and deep melodic sound that never failed to make her heart skip a beat. Lifting his head, a soft smile grazed his face as he looked down at her. A hand slid up her spine, gently tangling in the hair at the back of her head to tilt her face upwards to him.
“I love you more.” Azriel breathed out, before his mouth lowered onto her own. The kiss was devouring, fueled with heat and passion. His cock that had barely softened inside her, hardened again, leaving her shallowly rocking her hips on the desk to ease the need stirring in her core.
His hand in her hair tightened, tilting her head back further as his kisses trailed lower over her bared throat.
“Can you be quiet?” He sucked a bruising mark to the spot below her ear that always rendered her brainless.
“Yes-,” she gasped, clinging onto him and rocking her hips faster, more desperately, as he continued to lick burning kisses down her throat towards her breasts. “Please, Azriel. Oh, gods-,”
The rest of her pleas caught in her throat when his hips pulled back at the same time his hot, wet mouth closed over her puckered nipple, tongue tracing the sensitive peak as his cock thrusted up inside her again.
Her legs were shaking when she made her way out of the office, every step adding to the sore ache already forming deep in her core. She refused to show any of it though, holding her head high and feet steady as she opened the door to find Rhysand and Cassian waiting outside.
“Have a good meeting.” She smiled brightly at them both. Guilt was written all over Cassian’s face, ears sheepishly red and dark eyes darting to Azriel lingering in the doorway behind her.
Rhysand was harder to read, but he almost seemed to bow his head as she passed, clearing his throat before sounding unfamiliarly embarrassed, “Thank you.”
Azriel’s brothers left them alone after that. After a particularly cold trip to the mountains and back they agreed that they didn’t want to know what went on behind closed doors, and was more than happy to let her and Azriel be.
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