Illyrian Bonds

4

"Feyre darling," Rhysand coaxed softly, rubbing Feyre's back where she slept, lost to the world in her dreams. He smiled at her, pushing a loose strand of her hair behind her ears. He sat up and pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek.

Humming, she stretched and slowly opened her eyes, blinking at the brightness of the early morning sunshine streaming through the windows. She gave Rhysand a lazy smile as he watched her arch off the bed in a deep stretch. The kind that feels borderline orgasmic.

"Good morning," she yawned. She rubbed her eyes roughly, trying to scrub the sleep from them. In front of her, Rhysand was shirtless, the sheet low enough on his hips to reveal the V that tapered from his waist down and the trail of hair that led to the intimate parts of him she'd seen the night before. His dark tattoos swirled across his broad chest and arms, making him look much more terrifying than he did when he played High Lord.

"Is that so?" Rhys mused, eyes alight with intrigue.

She rolled her eyes with a groan, still annoyed with the fact that he could just step into her mind anytime he chose to. He placed a palm on her lower back, dragging her closer to him until her chest pressed against the soft warm skin of his own.

That was the precise moment her eyes blew wide, very quickly remembering how she'd fallen asleep entirely naked in a bed with three Illyrian males. Cauldron boil her alive. She fought to stave off the panic that threatened to flood her.

She sat up, clutching the sheets against her chest, hiding her naked body from Rhysand. He just kept grinning at her like he'd fully anticipated her having this reaction. She chewed the inside of her cheeks.

"Don't go all shy on me now, Feyre," Rhysand gave a low, lover's laugh, reaching to tug at the sheet she held against herself. "Not when you were begging for my cock hours ago." Her face turned bright red, exactly as he'd intended it to. She scowled at him.

"You forced me to participate," she growled.

He chuckled.

"If that's what you need to tell yourself, sweetheart."

She searched the room, eyes knitting together. Rhysand anticipated her question before it left her mouth. "Cassian had to go up to Illyria for the day, and Azriel is also working."

"So, you're the lazy one," she teased.

"Just soaking up the moment to have you all to myself," he smiled.

"What will I do while you work?"

"Wait for me to be done," he said. She glared at him.

"I'm just supposed to stare at you all day?" She chastised him, unable to believe he thought her some toy to put back on a shelf until he was ready to play with her again. She felt a pang of guilt in her stomach and briefly wondered again why Tamlin hadn't come to claim her. Surely, he'd pieced together where she was by now.

"What a great idea, my love," Rhysand's smile turned sinister, a wicked glimmer in his starry eyes. She hated the excitement that fluttered in her gut. "Get dressed, you now have a very busy day ahead of you."

She groaned, rolling to shove her face down into the pillows. Rhysand landed a sharp smack to her ass cheek, and she squealed, wiggling to get away from him. He made her feel so many things she'd never felt before. He was exciting in a way Tamlin never had been.

"I'm happy to have your approval, Feyre, but I believe I gave you an order," he said, voice deep and suddenly serious. He raised one eyebrow at her.

Her stomach twisted under the pressure of his gaze.