Illyrian Bonds

6

A/N: For all my dark Azriel simps, here is a gift. Mwah. 

Azriel's grin was positively ferocious. It sent a chill down Feyre's spine, fear and eagerness registering all at once inside her body. He was thrilling and terrifying. She knew just how bloodied his hands were, how much violence he had enacted in his long life.

She stood naked in the middle of the floor of their bedroom, Azriel slowly circling her like prey he was desperate to sink his teeth into. He looked like he wanted to eat her alive, to dominate her in every sense of the word. She'd begun to fear she'd bit off more than she could chew, riling up Azriel to be the first of her Bonds to fuck her.

"You are mine tonight, bunny. No one gets to fill that pretty cunt but me," he snarled, brushing his fingertips lightly across the back of her neck as he began to walk behind her. He paused, walking closer until his chest was flush against her back.

"Not even Rhys or Cass?" She gulped, voice barely a squeak.

He snarled, arm reaching around her to wrap his hand roughly around her throat, pulling her back against his chiseled chest. He squeezed the sides of her throat, blocking the blood flow and making her dizzy from his touch. It was exhilarating.

"I don't want to hear another fucking male's name on your tongue again, Feyre. You do not want to test me tonight," his voice was a deep rumble against her body, his breath brushing the shell of her ear, causing her to gasp at the sensation and how it made her so utterly desperate for his touch.

She whimpered and he released her throat, hands roaming her body. He gripped her breasts tightly, squeezing and kneading the flesh underneath his powerful, scarred hands. Something about hands so damaged and a man so savage ravaging her body made her knees weak, sending her heart thumping in her ears.

"Okay," she whispered.

He pinched her nipple, hard. She cried out, brows furrowing.

"That is not how you address me," he reprimanded. "Try again."

She swallowed, attempting to remove the lump in her throat, but it refused to ease up. She was all at once terrified and aroused. Wanted to run and wanted nothing more than to stay. It was incredibly confusing and threatened to overwhelm her every sense.

"Y-yes sir," she murmured. He hummed.

"My good girl," he purred. "You know, Feyre, you are going to come so many times tonight that you'll never be able to wash me off of you. I plan to claim you fully and mark you up. I want those other two bastards to know just how hard I made you come. I want you to let them hear it, bunny. Can you do that for me? Can you let them hear when you scream my name?"

She chewed her bottom lip, worry filling her gut.

"I-I thought Bonds weren't jealous of each other?"

He gave her a dark chuckle, circling to face her. He held the side of her face, stroking his thumb gently across the soft and supple skin of her rosy cheeks. He studied them as if wondering just how he should start making that blush darken with desire. As if he really even needed to try, Feyre scoffed to herself.

"I am not jealous of them. But the Bonding is a territorial claiming. It's better for us both without them here for now. Just as I'll offer the same courtesy," he mused. "I do not fucking plan to share tonight."

His hazel eyes were blown wide with lust, but he was so irritatingly in control. She wanted to break that control, to flip the power dynamic. She wanted to make him come. To see his own flushed cheeks, eyes rolling back in his head as she worshipped at the shrine of her body, desperate for redemption.