Illyrian Bonds

13

On Feyre's birthday, she had one singular wish. Just one time, she wanted to be the one in charge in the bedroom. Az, Cass, and Rhys had been incredibly hesitant but had eventually caved after she'd sufficiently begged. Feyre grinned at herself in the mirror, taking in her cat eye and red lip combo. She placed her black lace mask around her eyes, tying the silk tie at the back of her head to hold it in place. She straightened out her tiny little black slip and chugged the rest of her wine, taking a deep breath and reminding herself just how desperate these men were for any singular bit of her attention.

There was no reason to be afraid, but she felt like a mouse caught in a trap. She needed to bolster herself. Confidence was the key to this whole thing. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes to center herself for a few moments before she grabbed the small box of props she'd brought for herself to use on the boys.

Deciding at the last minute, she slipped her feet into a seductive pair of heels Rhysand had bought her for a gala event they'd attended earlier on in their relationship. Squaring her shoulders, she opened the door and walked down the hallway until she came to their bedroom door. She knew the three of them were already inside, waiting for her.

She tried to remind herself that if given the chance, they would seize control from her if she made it seem like she couldn't handle being in charge. She was determined to exact her revenge for all of the stunts they'd pulled in the bedroom over their time together. It was time for payback.

Feyre opened the door, stepping inside to see them in the small sitting area of their room, each of them holding a glass of bourbon and looking entirely unphased. Until they looked up and saw her, that is. The silence in the room was deafening the moment they laid eyes on her.

"Oh, I'm gonna like this," Azriel said with a sly grin, sinking further into his seat, arms stretched across the back of the sofa as he looked at her in a way that made her stomach heat. Fuck. Focus, Feyre.

She walked to the other side of the room, making a show of bending over to sit her basket of toys down, allowing the black slip to ride up slightly and expose the red lace she was wearing underneath. One of them swore behind her, and she smirked. It was the confidence boost she needed.

She grabbed a small riding crop from the box, twirling it in her fingers as she turned and slowly strode over to the men. She gave her most seductive smile, looking at them from under her lashes as she neared. She felt powerful as fuck, honestly.

"I hear you three have been bad boys," she purred. "Seems you all need to be punished." Cassian's wicked grin widened as he looked at both Azriel and Rhysand to make sure they were seeing this too. Rhys quirked up a brow, and Azriel looked smug as fuck. She planned to fix that.

"Seems we do," Cassian grinned. She ran the riding crop across his chest slowly, lifting it to press under his chin to force him to look at her before lightly smacking it against his cheek in warning. 

"Strip," she said, looking down her nose and looking bored. "On the bed, backs against the headboard. I won't ask twice." She turned her back to them, but could feel their shock as they stiffened, but ultimately began to obey her instructions. Back turned so they couldn't see, she bit her lip and urged herself on.

"Yes, ma'am," Azriel said with a chuckle, like he didn't take this the least bit seriously. Feyre planned to have him begging and whimpering by the end, so she'd see just how serious he found it then. Their arrogance and disregard for her command only made her want to be more demanding. Someone needed to teach these boys a lesson, and she was proud to be their professor for the night.

They all piled onto their shared bed, backs against the headboard like she'd ordered, snickering and elbowing each other. Schooling her features back into disappointed boredom, she grabbed three sets of handcuffs from her basket.