Chapter ☆ Twenty-One

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Feyre was close - so damn close..... And he stopped. 

The bastard actually stopped. Her eyes widened incredulously and her jaw dropped while her chest heaved and her core ached. "Why did you stop?!" she scolded, not entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer.

"Because I'm not done with you yet," Rhys replied smoothly, with a wickedly delighted smirk at her reaction. He laid his cheek against her inner thigh, aware of his breath still beat against her core as he waited for her body to come down. His fingers rubbing soothing circles into her hip as he watched her. Content to just watch and wait.

She was having none of that. She moved as fast as she'd be able to, if she could get around the hand that pinned her. She needed him, wanted him, and was ready to pounce...

"Ah ah ah." He shook his head as he sensed what she was about to do. His eyes twinkling as he watched her all but glower above him. His grip tightened on her hip. "Stay." His voice playful but firm in his command. He wondered, for a moment, if she would actually listen.

She glared. And scowled. And growled something feral deep in her throat. But she didn't have the energy to fight against his grip. Not when he all but drew every ounce from her already. "Rhysand..." Another breathy warning as she was stuck beneath his grasp.

"Yes, dear?" he cooed causally. As though he wasn't slowly torturing her. He knew, though. Knew she'd be glad of his efforts when her climax finally took her... as he finally took her. And as he thought of all the possible ways in which he could bring her to the brink of release, he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh. Not taking his eyes off her.

She growled again, giving in for this round, all but collapsing back on the bed, bringing an arm over her face as she tried to call herself. She was not going to win, but again, that was the game. "I will remember this," she threatened casually, shuddering against the kiss in her thigh. She was all but tempted to slam her legs shut and snap his neck in the process... such an arrogant bastard, her mate, and she suppressed a smile at the thought of what she would do to him...

He roared with laughter as he lay between her legs, hearing her contemplate murdering him. "Is that supposed to encourage me to continue?" he teased, still laughing. He wasn't sure if it really counted as surrendering to him if she was thinking of ways to kill him for not giving her what she wanted. "Spoiled, spoiled little girl," Rhys purred, going back to kissing her thigh. Not because it was part of the game... but because his lips craved her taste as much as he craved her so wholly.

She grumbled something incoherent but along the lines of damning him to the Cauldron and hoping he drowned in the Sidra as he lay more kisses along her thighs. She knew what he'd make her say- that he'd make her beg until she could no longer say the words and yield every part of her body to him. She knew that she could endure- she was High Fae. She had as much stamina and will-power as anyone else- even this High Lord between her legs, her equal. And so she nestled back on the pillow, a slow satisfied smile curling on her lips as she finally relaxed. Let him do his worst...

"There are other places I'd much rather be drowned," Rhys replied, gaze flickering back to her sodden center. Soaking wet, because of him. He felt a fresh wave of pride... accompanied by something more primal. He contemplated, only for a minute, abandoning this game of his and just flipping her over and fucking her into the mattress with enough ferocity that they might need a new bed. Or a new wall or both. He took a breath. Two breaths. Then continued his work as he began kissing up her thigh toward her abdomen, away from her core. He wondered if it was possible to make her come undone solely by teasing, by stimulating her breasts. Her nipples. Well, he'd find out.

She choked out a laugh that cut into a slight moan of disappointment as his kissed trailed back up, away from where she wanted-needed them the most. "You can try."

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