Illyrian Bonds

17

"It's too much," Feyre groaned, leaning back into her chair with a huff. She sat at dinner with her Bonded, all enjoying a meal together after what had been a terrible week. Everything Feyre had planned had fallen through, and everything irritated her to an intense degree. She was so touchy and on edge and had no way to make herself relax.

As soon as she would do something meant to help calm herself, her thoughts would spiral right back to that dark place in her mind, where everything fell apart. She knew she was likely approaching her cycle or something. That was the only time she ever felt this overwhelmed for no apparent reason.

"What is?" Cassian asked, shoveling a fork-full of pasta into his mouth as he watched her aimlessly rake her fork through her own. She hadn't had much of an appetite lately. She was restless, and no amount of effort was expelling the tension.

"Everything," Feyre shook her head. "All of it."

"You've been tense, Feyre darling," Rhys frowned. "I wish you would talk to me- us- about it." Azriel nodded in agreement. Feyre chewed her lip. She didn't know what was wrong with her, though. That was the issue.

"I can't explain it," she admitted. "I just can't get out of my own head."

The boys all exchanged a look that made Feyre's stomach flip.

"You know," Rhys began with a sleepy smile. "I have an idea on how to help."

Feyre's breath caught as Rhysand's fingertips ghosted up her thigh from underneath the table. Azriel's eyes darkened as he watched the blush creep into her cheeks. Her body felt like a livewire. It seemed the sensitivity had transferred to her skin as well. Her body felt hot with need.

"Please help," Feyre begged.

"Pretty girls get what they want," Azriel said from across the table.

"I want all of you," Feyre said breathily.

"Then you'll have us," Rhys assured. Pushing his chair back from the dinner table, he scooped Feyre up into his arms, and she heard the rustling of the other two males immediately following. Feyre felt dizzy when she saw where Rhysand was taking her. He was taking her back to the room he'd made- just for them to play in.

Once in the room, Rhysand sat Feyre on her feet, instructing her to undress as the three of them did the same. When they were naked, he placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down onto her knees. She did as he was asking, looking up at him through her lashes. He caressed the side of her face before walking to the opposite side of the room, opening a drawer and rustling around inside. Azriel and Cassian circled her like prey, and she could already feel herself getting lost in this moment- in these males.

Rhysand came behind her, gripping her jaw roughly.

"Open your mouth," he commanded, and she obliged. He slid a thick strip of fabric between her teeth, pulling it tight and tying it behind her head. Her mouth was forced open, and she couldn't make words without sounding muffled and wrong.

"That's a good girl, Feyre," Rhys praised, releasing her jaw. She whimpered behind the fabric, but they paid her no mind. "Hands behind your back." Feyre listened and Rhysand secured ties around her hands, holding them together at the small of her back.

"Now we need you to stand up and bend over on the side of the bed," Cassian instructed, helping her get to her feet. She walked to the bed and bent over the side, resting her face against the soft mattress, the edge of the bed digging into her hips. Feyre fought against the ties around her wrists, but they didn't budge.

"Such pretty little prey," Azriel smirked, walking to the wall that held the crops and floggers. He picked one that was smaller and softer, walking over to stand behind her once more. His hands gripped her ass, kneading the flesh and spreading her open for his viewing.