Pairing: Azriel x Reader (She/her pronouns used)
Word Count: 8.4k (I'm so sorry it's long, I couldn't stop myself)
Summary: Y/n has made it through three days away from her mate, exploring more about each other when they're finally reunited.
Warning/Notes: Aghgh, thank you all for the kind responses to my first fic, this is part 2, hopefully it does the first one justice! This one is definitely more on the mature side, so read with caution. Thanks for any feedback!
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Y/n’s back arched, cool, soft lips pressing against either cheek before slowly traveling down her throat. Teeth nipping and biting just so, her body moving of its own accord as the shadowsinger looms over her. His scarred hand flat next to her head, the other softly cradling the space connecting her neck and jaw.
His deep hazel gaze soaking her in as her hands roam his bare chest, tracing the outline of his tattoos, doing the best to memorize every inch of him. Her limbs seemed to have a mind of their own, following the dips and curves of his muscles with smooth precision.
His wings flared as she accidentally grazed too close to the base of one of them. Her hands moving to the muscles of his back, pulling him more snug against her body. A gasp sounding throughout the room as she felt his hard length press into her through his leathers. She didn’t know if the sound had come from her or him.
She held her breath as the hand that cupped her, so, so softly began its descent. Tender touches along her collarbone, dipping to her breast where her nipples tried desperately to escape from the confines of her bralette.
She flashed her teeth at her mate as his fingers ghosted ever so slightly over them, teasing her cruelly before skipping over them entirely and traveling along her stomach leaving goosebumps in their wake.
A small chuckle came from him, “Patience, my love.” He cooed, tone making it evident that he was enjoying making her squirm, making her lose her mind.
Two could play that game. Without missing a beat, she cupped him through his leathers, a hiss escaping the shadowsinger as she leaned up, catching his bottom lip between her teeth, nipping softly. Elation flowing through her as he allowed her to take the reins. Continuing to palm him through his pants, she slowly coaxed his mouth with hers, kissing him leisurely, her tongue caressing along his, not dominating, but chalk-full of undisguised need.
Her eyes flutter close in ecstasy, as long as she had this, had him, she could die happy, of that she was sure.
His skin was hot, and calloused beneath her fingers, likely from years of fighting, and it dragged along hers in all the right places as they continued to consume each other, quickly running out of breath the longer they refused to separate.
With the air in their lungs becoming increasingly more scarce, Azriel’s lips briefly left hers, trailing small, open-mouthed kisses down the length of her neck, between her breasts, and down to her navel. Each kiss more frantic, as if he was losing control over his actions, a leash pulled taught, ready to snap at any moment.
He murmured the same word, “Beautiful”, after each pass of his lips over her skin. Her heart grew in size at the sentiment. He didn’t even seem aware that he was speaking, the word sealed between the two of them. She wanted to tell him that he was beautiful, too, that no one compared– but the words wouldn’t come out, her brain seeming to restart at each new kiss along her body.
His wings cocooned them, shielding them from the outside world entirely. Biting her lip, she allowed herself to wonder what it would feel like to touch them, to caress them softly. It never took Azriel more than a few simple touches to leave her a big gooey mess– and she had heard that Illyrian wings were very sensitive.
Gods, even just the thought of being able to make him feel half as good as he made her feel had her body arching off the bed.
His pants weren’t even off and he somehow had her more turned-on than she had ever been in her life. She knew if he dipped one of his hands down, touching her where she wanted him so badly to, he would feel exactly what he did to her.
He smiled into the kiss, flashing his canines, her lips brushing against them. It was a wicked kind of smile, one that promised pleasure, and maybe even a tiny bit of pain. This male definitely knew what he did to her.
Y/n wanted to devour that look, wanted to capture it and keep it in a jar by her bedside. It was hers, hers, hers, chanting in the background of her mind, bouncing around chaotically as if trying to remind her of something.
“Focus on me, pretty,” Az whispered, his thumb quickly brushing along her bottom lip. The nickname set her body ablaze, her toes curling and her lips automatically sucking his thumb in, before quickly releasing the digit with a loud ‘pop’.
His eyes promised pleasure as he kissed her lips once more, tongues tangling together in a brief, but intense meeting.
Then he was moving, his body slowly lowering towards her legs, large hands peeling them apart, allowing for a perfectly Azriel-sized space.
She held her breath, anticipation clawing at her from deep within.
Now hovering over her clothed sex, he placed intentional nips and kisses along her inner thighs, his teeth grazing her skin in a way that turned her into a whimpering mess. A moan escaping his lips at her taste. She hoped he’d leave marks, that she would have something, anything, to remind her of this moment.
This male was a God, and she had somehow been blessed with the fortune of being able to love him, kiss him–
The world around her blurred, Azriel’s lips leaving her body entirely. A small noise of frustration slipping from between her lips. She just needed him to keep kissing her, to finally touch her where she needed him.
She shook her head, hands clasping desperately onto his fading figure. She just needed a moment longer, just a quick–
Azriel disappeared completely, the darkness blooming into the blinding light of day.
Y/n blinked up at her new-found enemy. Scowl seeming permanent as the face of someone she had once called a friend flooded her eyesight.
How dare she wake her up during one of the best dreams she’d ever had the pleasure of living through?
Revenge would need to be had, but maybe later. Perhaps, if she could convince the oldest Archeron to leave, she may be able to fall back into a fitful sleep filled with loving touches from her mate.
Nesta chuckled as her friend continued scowling at her, knowing exactly what she had done.
“You’re going to be late for training, pretty,” she cooed, not missing how the girl’s cheeks flamed a color so bright, Nesta wasn’t sure it could be called red.
Y/n groaned. Hauling a pillow over her face, blocking the sun and her friend from view entirely. Just one more–
“Nope,” Nesta plucked the pillow out of her hands, and tossed it across the room, then she yanked Y/n’s blanket to the bottom of the bed. Goosebumps running along her legs and arms at the sudden loss of warmth.
Letting out a less than lady-like noise, she bolted upright, hands instinctively covering her chest where Azriel’s shadow usually sleeps. Caressing the small tendril in a ‘good morning’ gesture. It lazily roamed up her neck and to her cheek, staying nestled there, its own version of a good morning.
The little shadow always seemed to know what she needed, the comfort she had sought only able to be alleviated by something so closely related to her mate. She had an ever-present burning sensation in her chest since he had left, the burning only growing hotter the longer he was away. The coolness of the shadow always dimmed the uncomfortable feeling, she had no doubt that was why the little guy had decided that her chest would make the best pillow.
Nesta shook her head, “You are worse than Nyx when it comes to getting out of bed in the morning, I swear,”
Y/n couldn’t really argue with that, she definitely did give the young heir a run for his money. But, she honestly couldn’t figure out why all of the fae in this household thought the only acceptable time to train was at the ass crack of dawn. Y/n wasn’t even a full person until at least ten in the morning, and three coffees deep.
“Training is no fun without Az,” she pouted.
Her friend gave her a bland look, “Based on the scent you’re giving off, you don’t need any more fun this morning.” Crimson splashed across her cheeks, Az’s shadow doing its best to hide the coloring, but also blinding Y/n in the process.
She heard Nesta mutter something about overprotective bats before holding up a book for her to see, “Here’s that romance book Gwyn and I were telling you about the other day, thought you might want to read it to get some inspiration.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Y/n knew the term ‘romance’ was putting it lightly, the copper-haired fae and Nesta Archeron were not known for their tame interests in literature.
But, Y/n had very little experience in the romance department, and had wanted some encouragement in the form of males written by women, so she’d asked the two fae about their favorite books, both coming to the conclusion that this was the best book to start with.
Flipping through a few pages, her eyes flashing wide at a few descriptions, what in the cauldron was an illyrian nipple twist? If this was considered tame, she couldn’t wait to upgrade to the books that turned Nesta into a blushing mess.
“Thank you,” she spoke, Azriel’s shadow trailing along the page she had flipped to. She wondered if his shadow would relay her reading materials to their master, she silently hoped they would. She knew she wanted Azriel, well, everyone pretty much knew that, she wasn’t exactly subtle, but it was one of those topics that she had always felt weird bringing up.
She knew Azriel would be understanding and perfect, he would say all the right things, do everything in his power to make her comfortable, but she wanted to be enough for him without him having to guide her through it. She wanted to be the girl she was in her dreams, daring and alluring. She wanted to be everything that Azriel deserved.
Y/n gasped, the book slipping from her fingertips as she felt a pull deep from within her chest, hand flying to the warming spot, a smile lighting her face. She hadn’t dared to pull on the bond, worried about distracting him while he was on a mission, no matter how safe Rhys had told her it was. But, feeling him tug on it, she realized, in that moment, she never wanted him to stop.
She could not go down that road, at least not yet. They knew each other well enough, she supposed. But, accepting a mating bond meant so many different things. It meant allowing another person the key to her very being, a twenty-four/seven whole-center access card to her soul. She had no doubts that she would get there with Azriel, in fact, she was quite sure she would be there soon, but– Azriel had said he’d wait, wait for her to be ready, and she didn’t want to risk messing this up. She wanted to give their relationship the proper time to bloom and flower into the beautiful gift from the Mother that it was.
So, she tucked the piece of information away into the safest corner of her mind, making sure to harvest and nurture it tenderly, keeping it in the same condition she had found it.
Nesta rolled her eyes as Y/n lost herself to her thoughts, muttering under her breath about the oddity that she was– a girl who was so clearly smitten with her mate it put Feyre and Rhys to shame.
Snapping her fingers, a common need when addressing her, Nesta reminded her to hurry and get to training, mentioning something about Cassian not going easy on her just because she was distracted.
Despite wanting nothing other than falling back into her glorious dreams and realizations, she padded her way to her armoire, pulling training leathers and a strap of fabric for her hair out.
She had made it three days without her mate, surely she could make it through two hours of training.
Afterall, Azriel was coming home today, and she needed something to pass the time until she was in his arms once more.
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Y/n had missed Azriel desperately the past three days.
Somehow she had convinced herself that it would be okay, that it’d be hard, but ultimately achievable. She had thought that because they hadn’t accepted the bond fully, that maybe his absence wouldn’t affect her as much.
Oh, boy, had she been so agonizingly wrong.
As soon as he left her that day in the House of Wind, a faux floor had emptied her heart straight into a chasm unaccessible to her. She physically felt like she was missing something, like a part of her had cut itself loose and vanished without a trace.
When she had poked Rhys for more information about mating bonds, he had enlightened her that it wouldn’t make a difference if they had accepted the bond yet or not. Apparently spending more time together, opening up more and accepting each other, had slowly begun stretching and kneading their bond into the shape it was meant to be. According to Rhys, the mating bond was more than just the acceptance, but also the work and love that each person gave to it, their commitment the foundation. She wondered if that was why some bonds didn’t work out, if somehow a fae could ignore the intoxicating pull that always brought her to Azriel, her worry about his happiness and safety two of her closest friends.
She hadn’t had a chance to ask anymore questions, though. Cassian had come barreling in, effectively ending the conversation when he told Rhys he was needed for a ‘little accident’, that definitely wasn’t his fault, but also required ‘immediate assistance’ from the High Lord.
Suppressing a smile, Y/n watched the two males closely. It warmed her heart to see them interact in such a warm way, knowing that they were that way with Azriel, too. She didn’t know much about Azriel’s past, he had told her bits and pieces, but she hadn’t wanted to pry, so she takes what little information he allows her the honor of knowing.
But, seeing him have Rhys and Cassian as brothers, it made her so happy for him. He deserved every ounce of happiness this world could offer, and she was glad to see he had found a small piece of the world that was just his, she couldn’t help but blush, wondering if she was now a part of that small corner. She certainly hoped so, and would be praying to the Mother tonight to get in her good graces, she’d rather be safe than sorry when it came to her and the shadowsinger’s fate.
After speaking with Rhys, and dutifully ignoring the lingering smell of smoke and what smelt an awful lot like burnt bread, Y/n found herself in the library, looming over a text about herbal remedies and medicinal means of healing basic infections. She thought keeping her mind busy would help pass the hours before her mate finally arrived home.
She hadn’t wanted to let the loss take over her life, so she had tried to maintain being a helpful member of the Inner Circle the past few days. Between going to meetings with Rhys and Feyre, the latter insisting on going to an art show in the Rainbow afterwards, staying out late with Mor, reading during the day with Nesta, and doing a few wine tastings with Amren she had hardly had a moment to think about that feeling fighting so desperately to take over her.
Not to mention the torture sessions that Cassian referred to as ‘training’, that she attended daily. She shivered at the memory, the commander had definitely not gone easy on her as his mate mentioned.
Even at night the Mother had seemed to bless her. Sure, some may think it torturous to have hot dreams about their mate and not be able to act on them, but to her they were as close to reality as they’d come.
She was a glutton, the only way to satiate her?
Y/n was grateful, truly, not a single member of her family had let her drown, she just wished Azriel hadn’t had to suffer alone. She would make sure she made it up to him, for as long as he’d let her.
It wasn’t until close to evening, Y/n eyes feeling as if they would start bleeding any moment, that she began feeling the ever-present burning sensation in her chest begin to lull, as if the tension was beginning to lessen. That must mean–
He’ll be home soon, Rhys’s voice swam through her mind.
Y/n startled at the intrusion, still not entirely used to the High Lords abilities. He had been helping her with her mental shields the past few days, whenever either of them had a free moment, and she had managed to keep them solid, but her shields against his daemati abilities never really stood a chance.
Nevertheless, butterflies erupted within her belly, her nerves hitting their peak. She quickly closed the book she had been numbingly reading the past few hours, making sure to note the page and paragraph so she could return to it later, before heading to the bookshelf where it lived, returning it just as she had found it. Clotho– or gods forbid, Gwyn– were two people she did not want to be on the wrong side of.
Taking a deep breath, her hands placed haphazardly on two of the shelves in front of her, she tried to calm her scrambling thoughts. What would she say? Did she hug him? Would she have to let go? Did he want to spend the rest of the night with her, the way she wanted to spend it with him? Did his family have first dibs? Would she have to stand aside and find the patience to allow all of his family to greet him and hug her before she did?
“You are my family.” A cool voice whispered in her ear from behind. “My most important family member, one could argue.” His lips grazing her ear, his voice a melody she hadn’t been able to replicate in her head.
Y/n froze, her eyes closing on instinct.
She hadn’t even heard him enter, had been so caught up in her worry that she hadn’t felt that last bit of tension completely deflate within her chest, replaced with a glowing warmth and a feeling of such fullness– she could feel the tear that leaks down her cheek.
She felt whole again. The missing piece clicking into place with no more than a soft, loving tug from his end.
His hands ghosted up the sides of her arms, the heat radiating off of him all too consuming. Has he always smelt so good? Surely a male who had been traveling for hours straight, after a three day long mission, would smell… not amazing? His night-chilled air and cedar scent enveloped her, but there was something else, something sweet and intoxicating, something that made her want to devour his very being. Something that made her want to be devoured.
His hands still traveled along her body, touching her, just barely, everywhere he could from where he stood behind her, as if to reassure himself that she was here, that she was okay. She couldn’t stop her head from falling back against his chest as his euphoric touch reached the base of her neck and into her hair. Her fingers reached up behind her to trail along his cheek, feeling the slight stubble that had grown.
She watched as the shadow that had kept her company the past few days reunited with all of the other shadows. The little guy slithering from her wrist to Azriel’s, at least a dozen others wrapping around her body with their phantom touches almost as intoxicating as the shadowsinger’s slow menstrations of her body.
She hummed as he placed a small, affectionate kiss just behind her ear. His arms now caging her in around the bookshelf she shamelessly gripped with one hand. Her breathing uneven as she whispered, “I missed you,” the hand grounding her to this world, moving from his jaw down the length of his arm, only stopping when their fingers touched. Her hand covered his as she laced their fingers together, relishing in the pulse she could feel fluttering along her soft skin.
“I missed you, too,” His words were low, a kiss placed on her shoulder, as he leaned his head against hers.
She’s not sure how long they stay like that, her pressed against the bookshelves, his chest flush with her back, hands laced, and just existing together. It could have been one minute or ten, either way, she didn’t care. This moment was the most relaxed either of them had been in three days.
“Will you– I need to see you,” he begged, his ragged voice a symphony in her ears. How was every part of this man sexy?
Slowly, she turned around their eyes meeting for the first time in three days, and Y/n didn’t quite know what it was about her mate’s eyes, but every anxiety that had shoved itself inside her mind the past seventy-two hours evaporated. Poof, gone with a meeting of eyes, a panty-melting gaze, beautiful golden orbs drinking in the sight of her as if she were a masterpiece he needed to memorize.
Then his eyes flicked down to her lips. A brief movement, one she would have missed had she not been ogling this man like a piece of meat. She found both of her hands cradling his cheeks, now, her thumbs aimlessly brushing along the bones, basking in his attention being fully on her.
“How did you sleep the past few nights?” He asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes that caused the narrowing of her own.
Her suspicion didn’t stop the heat that was surely clawing its way up her throat and to her cheeks, remembering her nights–
A gasp sounding throughout the room as she felt his hard length press into her through his leathers.
Azriel’s nose dragged along her neck, a rumble coming from him as he inhaled her scent, her quickly growing arousal all too noticeable. She gasped as he licked a stripe up her throat, a quick, open-mouth kiss being left in its wake. Her body arched into his, feeling him in a way she’d only ever dreamed of before, and oh boy, they did not do him justice.
“Huh?” She murmured absently, her body delighted by his touches, not missing the way his shadows wrapped themselves throughout her hair, writhing around her legs, arms, and stomach. Their cool essence off-setting the blazing fire building within her.
He chuckled, that breathtaking grin taking over his features, “your sleep, my love?”
“Oh–” Her fingers clutching his leathers, now, holding him flush against her, refusing even a breath of space, “It would have been better if you were next to me, holding me.”
For Cauldron’s sake, the cord between her mouth and her brain had been severed somewhere in between Azriel’s teeth grazing that sweet spot on her neck, that drove her wild, and where his hands roamed the length of her back.
He seemed to startle at the admission, neither of them expecting such an honest answer.
His smile brightened to a level that put the sun to shame. The area between his brows crinkling slightly, his eyes twinkling like a small boy being given the best gift for Solstice.
“That’s all you have to say?” She gawked, he still had something brewing beneath his gaze, something that promised nothing but trouble.
His eyes softened in a way that was only meant for her, a gift that only she got to witness. The pad of his thumb traced the few freckles that sat along her nose and jaw, “If you would allow it,” he began softly, his eyes tracking the movement of her mouth once more. Her tongue flicking out absently, wetting her bottom lip. “Perhaps we could remedy that tonight.”
“Azriel,” she feigned shock, her hand flying to cover her growing smile, “Are you asking me to sleep with you?”
It was moments like these that Y/n wished she were an artist like Feyre, watching a warm, pink color tint the Spymaster of the Night Court’s cheeks left her itching to memorize the sight, to put brush to canvas and paint the rare sight.
He sputtered a few times, not coming up with a coherent response, before she put him out of his misery, “I would love to sleep with you, shadowsinger,” offering him a small smile, followed by a suggestive wink.
Azriel’s eyes pierced into hers, his hazel eyes so dark they appeared black with desire. His mouth only a space away, she tried to connect their lips, but her mate stepped away, keeping his hands on her to insure her steady feet.
A whine came from her lips at the loss of contact, she knew he wanted her as much as she wanted him, so why would he pull away?
Taking a shaky breath, he spoke, “I have to go debrief with Rhys real quick. I wanted to see you first. And, if–” He paused, his hands returning to his sides, running through his hair roughly, “If we start–” He couldn’t even seem to say the words without fear of losing all control. There was only a small– okay, a big– part of her that felt undiluted pride at the way her mate fell to pieces in her presence. “I can feel how much you want this, want me, and believe me– that feeling is mutual, but once we start I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop without you telling me to do so.”
She bristled at the thought, causing him to give her a look as if to say, You see the problem?
She nodded her head in understanding, afraid that if she opened her mouth she would tell him to blow Rhys’s debrief off and fuck her senseless, but that was absolutely not going to work. So, instead she clamped her mouth shut, clasping her hands behind her back and quelching that all-consuming desire deep within.
It was in that moment, free of his electrifying touch, that she realized just how tired her mate looked. He had slight bags under his eyes, his skin pale and slightly gaunt.
He must be exhausted, he had flown to the Mortal Lands and back, completed his mission, she could only imagine what that entailed physically. Not to mention the mental and emotional strain she knew he had to have been going through. She had had such unrelenting support, but her mate had had to go through it all on his own, how could she be selfish in a moment like this?
.She needed her mate, but first, she needed to make sure he was safe and comfortable. She wanted to take care of him the way he always took care of her.
“When you’re finished–could we take a bath?”
His head whipped up so quickly, she worried he may get whip-lash, his hands reaching for her before thinking better and dropping them an inch from her skin.
His eyes were wide, liquid hazel burning into hers. They seemed to ask a question he didn’t want to put into words, together?
Nodding, a small smile forming on her face.
“Of course,” his voice gruff, taking a step back. He shook his head slightly, doing his best to hide his own smile and–was that another blush? Had she made the Spymaster of the Night Court blush twice in one night, no, in five minutes? She was on a roll, taking notes mentally so she could continue to make him blush for years to come.
He took two steps towards her, seeming to hold a leash on himself as he kissed her head, his hands tense as he held them tight to his sides. She didn’t see him raise his eyes to the roof, praying to every God that existed to lend him their strength, for the Mother, Fate, and anyone else listening to give him the patience to sit through an hour of debrief with Rhys, while his kind, smart, beautiful mate waited to take a bath with him.
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Y/n tried to keep herself busy while she waited for her mate.
It only took a few minutes to collect the items she wanted accessible during their bath. Some of her lavender and lemon soap, along with a view of her favorite body washes, she had never actually bathed with another person, so she didn’t know the protocol.
Was she supposed to strip down and wait for him in the bath, or on the bed? Did he want to strip her himself? Would they strip separately while eating eachother alive with their eyes?
She groaned, falling back onto his massive bed, her friendly shadow trying to soothe her anxiety as she cursed her inexperience. She wished she’d spent today reading up on how to take care of her mate instead of about medicinal herbs that cleared fungal infections and skin irritation.
Y/n had managed to secure a few of Nesta’s favorite books to bribe the House of Wind with, the sentient House still a mystery to her. She didn’t need to understand how it worked, though, because the House was more than happy to fill and keep the bath hot, while leaving fluffy white towels and robes for the two.
She was pulling the pins from her hair, allowing it to fall down her back and running her hands through it when she heard the door click-open. The best kind of nerves swarming her belly.
Without waiting a moment longer, she left the bathroom, stopping abruptly when she entered the main bedroom.
Azriel was already looking at her, his eyes alight with the same emotion he had left her with three days ago. She could place it now, knew what that look meant, but she still needed to hear it from him, have him say those three words to her, before she let them free in her mind, her heart.
Seeming to understand her thoughts, he closed the distance between them in three long strides. His hands cupping her cheeks as he placed his mouth on hers, kissing her with feral passion. There was nothing sweet or gentle about the kiss, his tongue swept over her top lip once, then twice, his hand grasping her hair, tilting her lips up, a whimper escaping her, as his tongue took the opportunity to dive in. His tongue tangled with hers, the fight for dominance only lasting a few moments before he won.
He kissed, and kissed, and kissed her. Capturing the sounds coming from her with his lips and breathing them into his soul.
Once breathing became difficult, Azriel always seemed to know when she needed a moment, he pulled his warm lips from hers, his thumb tracing her bottom lip as his forehead fell against hers.
“I’ve been thinking about doing that for three days straight.” He admitted, his gaze never wavering from hers. “It was incredibly distracting,”
“Let me make it up to you,” She murmured, clasping his hand and dragging him into the bathroom.
A wicked smirk flirted with his mouth, “Oh, believe me, love, I have some ideas.”
Her cheeks heated as they both stopped before the tub, facing each other, so close their toes kissed.
Looking into his eyes, they shined with understanding and trust, he looked at her in a way that let her know she was in charge, that he would follow her lead, no matter what.
Slowly, so achingly slow, she began to unbuckle his leathers, a slight tremble in her hands as she tried to remain calm.
“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” she breathed, afraid that speaking the words any higher would make them even more terrifying.
“Follow your instincts, pretty, there’s nothing you can do that I won’t love, won’t cherish.”
Y/n head whipped up, her eyes clashing with his, her fingers still deftly removing his leathers, thankful her mate had taken it upon himself to remove his own weapons.
“What did you call me?” She asked incredulously, that wildly suspicious look coming back to his face.
Running his nose along hers, smirk dancing along his face, he spoke with a devilish tone, “Whatever do you mean, pretty?”
“Oh my gods,” He helped her remove the shirt beneath his leathers as she finally freed him from his confines, his pants going next. “You’ve only ever called me that in–” Snapping her mouth closed, she cut off her words, crimson splashing along her cheeks.
“In your what?,” he cooed, “May I?” A nod toward your body.
Somehow having this conversation made the moment less awkward, and more endearing as he helped remove her shirt, her pants going quickly after as his eyes took on a heavy sheen, trailing slowly over her black lace undergarments, picked out with Mor, specially for him.
“My dreams,” she panted as Azriel met her eyes once more, a question in his eyes as he eyed her breasts hungrily. Unclasping her bra, she allowed the fabric to fall between them.
He hummed, his eyes drinking in the beautiful sight before him, her peaked nipples calling his name. “Interesting, isn’t it?” his fingers trailing down her arm, clasping their hands together as they both stared at one another in nothing but their underwear. “How vivid those dreams were…”
“You sent them?” She screeched, a full, uncontrolled laugh escaping from him.
In one clean motion, his shadows helped remove the last of both of their clothing, his muscled arms sweeping her up and sitting them both down in the tub before she had a chance to ogle him.
“I couldn’t have my precious mate having nightmares while I was away could I?” The sincerity in his voice warmed her heart, he had sent them not only because he was missing her, but because he hadn’t wanted her to suffer while he was away. How had she gotten so lucky with this male?
“I don’t understand, though. I thought your side of the bond was closed, I couldn’t feel you at all.”
Y/n took the moment to grab some of her shampoo, gesturing for Azriel to turn around, helping guide his head to her chest as he faced the opposite direction. Slowly, carefully she cupped water into her hands, wetting his hair before lathering the soap softly into his scalp. The big-bad illyrian warrior letting out a string of soft noises as she continued her ministrations.
“It was, most of the time. During the days when I was… indisposed, it made it easier to focus. But, when I settled for the night, I – I wanted to make sure that you were doing okay, so I opened it.” He spoke softly, tracing some kind of symbol absently along her legs as they sat on either side of him.
“The first night, I missed you so much, that at first it was just my imagination, my desires,” she couldn’t see him, but could hear his voice catch ever slightly, “I told myself that I would open the bond just for a moment, just to make sure that you were okay, that you were safe. My instincts haven’t exactly been efficient lately, not when it comes to you.” He muttered the last part more to himself than her.
She thanked one of his shadows as it pushed the conditioner closer to her, ensuring she wouldn’t have to move to access it. Washing the soap out of his hair, once, and then twice, she coated his ends in the conditioner, placing a kiss atop his head, a silent plea for him to continue.
She could listen to his voice for hours.
“I didn’t quite realize my lack of control when it comes to you until that moment. Once I opened the bond, I couldn’t bring myself to close it until the next morning. And I sat awake for hours, waiting for you to fall asleep, but no matter how long I waited, you never did.”
She remembered that first night, she had thought she felt a shift in the bond but had chalked it up to being so far away from her mate, unsure of the new feelings happening within her chest. She hadn’t been able to sleep, tossing and turning in her bed for hours, she had eventually given up and drifted her way to Az’s room, stealing one of his shirts to sleep in so she could engulf herself in his scent. It was the only thing that helped lull her into sleep.
“I wanted to make sure you were well rested, I knew Cassian was going to drag you out of bed soon, and that you’d hate every minute of it.” His eyes rolling to the top of his head, locking with hers. A sweet, intimate smile shared between the two.
“So you sent your thoughts, your–desires, down the bond to me.” She finished for him, watching the muscles in his back strain as he sat up, his membranous wings flicking bits of water off of them.
Turning to face her, he grabbed a bottle of soap, and held his hand out, asking permission. Wanting nothing more than to be closer to him, she allowed him to take her arms and pull her closer, rubbing her skin with the lavender scented product. Slow movements that had her reeling, soft breaths leaving her in a flurry.
“Thank you,” she spoke softly, both of them knowing she meant the dreams more than his careful washing of her, though that was just as perfect. “They were the best parts of my day, getting to touch you, see you, hear your voice,” their eyes holding each other stare magnetically, his long, scarred fingers intricately following along her skin, not leaving a single spot unexplored. “It was the only thing that dulled the ache, that stopped the overpowering uncomfortableness that settled in my bones the moment you left.”
He seemed to let out a sigh of relief, as if only her confirmation could settle the small thought in the back of his head that worried he had pushed too far, given too much of himself when she may not be ready.
Y/n couldn’t help herself, she wanted to reassure him that she wanted him, indescribably so. Climbing into his lap, the water and suds sloshing over the rim of the tub as she adjusted on top of him, his large hands holding her hips so she could sit comfortably. Her breasts laying against his bare chest, the feeling of every glorious inch of him utterly euphoric.
“Is this your soap?” he asked, amusement evident in his words.
Y/n felt her cheeks heat. She had hoped he wouldn’t notice, but she supposed that was stupid. He was the Spymaster of the Night Court, noticing the small things is quite literally his job.
Did she know that Azriel has his own soap? Of course. Did that make a difference to her? Not even a little. So what if she wanted him to smell like her, surely lavender and lemon-zest smelt good on everybody, it’s not her fault that she felt this all-consuming need to claim him in every way. Not to mention she was sure that simply being around him would take far too long to integrate her smell back onto him, she needed to give it a boost. Hence, the soaps.
She wouldn’t apologize, merely offering him a shrug, allowing him to see all of her through their bond.
Arms tightening around her, holding him more solidly against him, he said, “I love you, Y/n.” The air in her lungs caught somewhere in her throat, her head shaking slowly, trying her best to digest the words, to absorb them into her skin, her very being.
“I don’t expect anything from you, I just thought you should know–”
“I love you, too.” She sighed, a weight removed from her shoulders as the words passed her lips. Her hands cradling his face as a tear slid past, his eyes closing as he loosened a breath. She tried to chase his tears with her thumbs, ultimately deciding to kiss them away, catching as many as she could in the process.
“I never– never thought I would have this, someone to love, to appreciate wholly, a mate that, somehow, against all my faults could love me back.” He whispered, his voice cracking.
Y/n shushed him, holding him to her, afraid that any space between them would pop the bubble they’d built. Her gaze collided with his, “You are perfect to me, Azriel. We still have so much to learn about each other, but gods, everything that I do know, is perfect. Not perfect in a way that makes me want to put you under glass and keep you away from sunlight, but in a way that is so unconditionally you. Your ‘faults’,” she hated the word, even as it passed her lips, “Are what make you who you are, they’re what make you distinct from everyone else, and I am so grateful to be able to call you mine.”
Azriel swiftly lifted the two of them from the bath, holding her in his arms bridal style as he padded toward the bedroom, both of them naked and covered in suds.
She wasn’t sure where the towels were, didn’t particularly care as Azriel deposited her onto the bed, standing straight as he drank in her entire body. His wings only made him look bigger as the moonlight cast on him through the window.
“Az,” she panted, “Please,”
Smirking, he finally moved, his hands gripping either of her knees, “Is this okay?” he asked, arousal from both of them already mixing and coating the room.
She nodded, words stuck on the tip of her tongue, her body jolting as he slid to his knees, careful not to let his wings touch the floor. Without warning he pulled her forward, pulling her to the edge of the bed, her toes curling as his warm breath met the inside of her thighs.
“I need your words, pretty,” if she hadn’t been so lost in her own arousal, waiting on bated breath for him to finally close the distance between them, she would have realized that they were picking up where they’d left off. He was on his knees before her, finally breaching that last line between them, love showing in both of their gazes, their actions.
And, there would be no waking up, this was really happening. She felt herself tighten at the thought, Azriel’s gaze narrowing to the singular movement.
“Fuck,” he barked, leaving a trail of kisses up her thigh, saliva connecting them all as he breathed her in. He sucked and nibbled on her thighs, no doubt leaving them full of hickies.
She wanted him to mark her, she wanted to see the evidence of him all over her tomorrow morning.
“Please, Az, please touch me.” Her hand moved of its own accord, slowly massaging her breasts, needing any kind of friction as her mate took his time tasting her skin.
Azriel didn’t need anything else, that tight tether finally seeming to break.
Thank the gods, she thought.
Azriel let out a near animalistic growl when his lips finally came to hover over her sex, his tongue wetting his lips, eyes staring at her as if she could be his last meal and he’d be able to die happy.
“You’re the perfect one, pretty, gonna make you feel so good,” Y/n moaned loudly, not caring that there were other fae living in this house, when his tongue finally met her center. He groaned, his hands gripping her hips and holding her down, keeping her from rutting against his face.
The languid flicks of his tongue nothing short of torture as he took his time tasting, nipping, and licking at her center. His tongue splayin flat against her throbbing clit, suckling her wetness as she slowly lost her mind.
His ministrations didn’t stop, not as she tried to buck her hips, or when she grabbed onto his hair, trying to find anything to keep her from falling through the veils of the universe.
She lost all sense of herself when he inserted a finger inside her, pumping in once, twice, and then curling right around her core. Moans were falling from her mouth in troves, unable to control any noises coming out of her.
He added a second figure, the noise of his licks and pumping mixing together in one of the most erotic sounds she had ever had the pleasure of hearing. “You taste devine, my love, might just have to eat you for breakfast every morning.”
His fingers moved in and out of her quickly, his tongue still attacking her small nub as he devoured her whole. She could feel herself lifting, the bed beneath her disappearing from her senses almost entirely, the world zoned into the man feasting on her, a high traveling so quickly to her, she knew she had no choice but to allow it to take over.
“That’s it, beautiful, let go for me, let me taste all of you.”
Azriel moaned loudly as he tasted her wetness, her body exploding in a burst of pleasure so intense, a small scream left her lips involuntarily. She tried catching her breath as he continued his tortuous motions, coaxing her down from her high slowly, the vertigo slowly dying down as he continued to work her body smoothly.
Slowly, so utterly slowly, he removed his fingers from her, lifting his head to meet her gaze. His pupils blown wide, her slick shining on his lips and jaw, he looked like a God with his hair pulled in every direction from her death-grip. And, when Azriel lifted his fingers to his mouth, sucking all of her juices off, careful not to miss a drip, his eyes never leaving hers, she could feel her arousal spike again.
Her legs were jelly, there was no way she’d be able to move, thankfully, Azriel seemed to understand as he met her on the bed, his body leaning over hers, body covered in a glorious sheen of sweat, his tattoos glistening in all their glory.
His lips met hers, softly, cupping her cheek. She could taste herself on him, the mix of her arousal and his mouth making her moan. “I love you,” she whispered, as his kisses trailed down her throat, sucking lightly, leaving nips and love bites behind.
“You are everything to me,” he said back, pouring all of that love through their bond, his lips meeting hers once more.
She gasped as she felt his length press against her leg, skin on skin making her shiver with anticipation.
Azriel was well-endowed to say the least. Not a lick of imagination needed as she felt herself ogling him, she reached down, trying to keep her wits about her despite his loving caresses.
She wanted to make him feel as good as he had just made her, a feeling so intense, she had no doubt the mating bond had enhanced it– the connection, the intimacy. He hissed out a breath as she wrapped her small hand around his length, her hand not even large enough to wrap entirely around his member. That didn’t stop her though, if anything it encouraged her.
Meeting his gaze, bringing their lips together once more, she gathered some of her own slickness up, mixing it with the precum pouring from his tip, she used it as lubrication and slowly, tortuously began pumping him in her hand.
His breath hitched, his eyes closing tightly, teeth clamping down on his bottom lip. She couldn’t help but use her other hand to trace the tattoos on his chest, matching her strokes and eliciting small, undeniable whimpers from the beautiful specimen of a male.
“You–” the catch in his low voice, the sexiest sound she’d ever had the pleasure of hearing, “are going to be the death of me.”
She tutted, stroking him harder, faster, “We can’t have that, now can we, pretty,” His eyes shot to hers, a full-body shutter coming over him as he came, his cum covering her hand and stomach in the most beautiful piece of art he’d ever seen.
She continued to coo, to slowly help him come down, as he had her, surprise rolling through her when his cock remained semi- hard despite just experiencing one of the most euphoric orgasms he had ever had.
It was her turn to flash a wicked smile as he folded into her, his head falling into the crook of her neck, taking just a moment to catch his breath, gather his bearings. “Who would have known all it took to send the shadowsinger spiraling would be to call him pretty,” she mused, utter adoration in her tone, and maybe, just a tad bit, of teasing.
He groaned, “Rhys and Cassian can never find out.”
She laughed, his fingers shadowing along her arms, as they caught their breath, neither of them willing to part from each other, despite the mess they’d made.
A few silent minutes passed, before y/n made to move herself, not making it far before her mate caught hold of her arm, dragging her back towards him and tucking her into his arms, her body heating with desire as he nuzzled against her, flicking her hardened nipples. He was already hard as steel, once more.
“Where do you think you’re going, pretty? I believe I still owe you six days, my love.” Wicked delight dancing behind his eyes, a promise that she couldn’t wait to fulfill.
Their eyes never straying, an understanding washing over them both, they had more than six days, they had forever.
