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lune-de-miel-au-paradis · 3 days ago

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All Over My Skin

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader x Rhysand

Description: You find yourself in an empty room between the High Lord and the Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Smut, Threesome, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Oral, Cum Eating, Orgasm denial (a bit, kind of)

Word Count: 10,620

Rating: 18+

Nothing could have prepared you for the way this evening would unfold when you left your house, something like this only seemed possible in your dreams. The events that led up to this moment were getting hazier with every stroke of the Shadowsinger's tongue against yours, strong hands holding onto your waist and hips, pulling you impossibly closer, until you could feel his own heart beating against yours.

You almost didn't even show up, seriously considering coming up with an excuse to politely decline the High Lord's invitation so you could stay in, curled under your fuzzy blanket, reading a book while the rain fell outside. These types of parties aren't exactly your cup of tea, and the ones you actually get invited to are few and far in between. In fact, you were still not entirely sure why you had been invited tonight in the first place.

A simple scribe sent in from a different court to aid some of the Night Court's libraries couldn't be too important. Your work wasn't even in the Hewn City, but in the surrounding, smaller towns - strangely enough the name of the city where you've spent the last few days, before returning to the Court of Nightmares seems to be evading your mind, you usually have an excellent memory, must be the wine.

You certainly weren't as important as the other guests present, and some of the court's denizens seemed to agree with the fact, not trying to hide their distaste for your presence here. None of the other scribes or librarians had been invited, leaving you by yourself, sitting by a quieter corner of the big, ostentatious ballroom, missing your friends back in the Winter Court.

It was in that exact corner that Azriel had found you, watching the crowd mingle while nursing a glass of champagne, deciding to be a good host and keep you company. This much hadn't come as a surprise, it was obvious the Spymaster didn't enjoy big gatherings such as these, but as polite as he always had been with you, you had never expected him to come talk to you outside of work. From the few glances his way, you could tell he wasn't exactly adored in the Court of Nightmares either, though the fear was a lot more pronounced in everyone's eyes than whatever judgment they held for the shadowsinger.

With him by your side, the boring party had quickly turned into the best time you've had in years, as you laughed along with him and tried not to blush too much at his captivating words and the undivided attention he was showing you, at the bright, boyish grins he was sharing with you.

As the hours passed and the party dwindled, some people started to leave while others started gathering in smaller groups around the room, drunkenly telling each other stories and laughing together. Your intention had been to leave when you noticed how late it had gotten and how few people remained in the ballroom, seeing as your accommodations were outside the Hewn City, usually convenient since it made it easier for you to travel wherever you needed to go.

When you made your wishes known to Azriel, he immediately offered to accompany you, but then one thing led to another, and you ended up in a vacant office instead, sitting on top of the dark mahogany desk with him standing between your legs, kissing and touching each other like your lives depended on it.

To say you hadn't imagined this exact scenario a million times before would have been a boldfaced lie. The spymaster had taken hold of your mind ever since the first time you laid your eyes on him, and really who could blame you? This male was impossibly captivating, his beauty only heightened by his mysterious demeanor and polite disposition, by his imposing frame and the tall wings draped behind his back, the slightly curly, dark hair giving him a boyish look as it fell over his forehead. And his shadows, swirling around his body, whispering every dirty little secret they can find in his ear.

It's no secret the Night Court's Inner Circle are some of the most beautiful fae anyone has ever seen, especially the High Lord with his ethereal purple eyes and silver tongue, so when you were sent to aid the recently crowned Lord of Night as a show of allyship from your home court, you had been more than excited. What you couldn't have predicted was for any of these otherworldly fae to notice you at all, but as Azriel's scent deepens with arousal, a groan escaping him as you tug on his soft curls, you realize you might have been selling yourself short.

The delicious sound sends pleasure coursing through your veins. You let your hands wander down to his shoulders, wanting to take his jacket off so you could feel his skin on yours, but not knowing how to do it without disturbing his wings. Ilyrians are extremely protective of their wings and you don't want to do anything that he wasn't comfortable with.

Azriel must have noticed your hesitation as he pulls back, “Is something wrong?” It takes you a moment to focus on his face, a shiver running down your spine at the hunger you find etched into his beautiful features.

“It's nothing,” the words coming out breathy, prompting you to swallow before continuing, “I wanted to take off your jacket but I'm not sure how…” He lets out an amused breath, a smile taking over his face as he leans down for a quick kiss before pulling away from you slightly, hands reaching out behind him to unbutton his jacket.

Both his jacket and shirt are pulled over his head in a matter of seconds, and your hands move to hold his waist, not being able to stop yourself from staring at the view. Fingers come up to trace the bargain marks swirling over his chest and shoulders, traveling down his arms, as he throws the clothes to the floor, taking a good look at your blushing face before grabbing your neck firmly and using his grip to pull you in for another passionate kiss.

Sadly, his hand doesn't linger around your throat, choosing to hold onto your thighs instead as he pulls you against him once more, wrapping your legs around him, fusing your bodies together. You feel him shuddering softly when your rake your nails over his scalp, but there's no time to revel in it before his hands start traveling up past your hips, taking your dress with them until he could easily reach your panties, tucking his fingers under the lace on either side, the rough skin sending goosebumps swimming across your body.

He pulls his mouth away from yours, resulting in an otherwise embarrassing whine to escape you. Any other noise of protest is silenced as he starts pressing messy, wet kisses down your neck, strong hand holding your jaw and maneuvering your head however he wants you. The marks he was leaving behind were probably going to give you trouble tomorrow, but in this moment you couldn't care less.

You let him have his fun for a while, breathy moans leaving your lips as he took turns nibbling and sucking on your skin, canine teeth teasing the side of your neck, tongue soothing the deeper bites, the ones that would still be etched into your skin come morning. But at some point you start missing his taste, impatience moving you to tug on his hair to get his attention, and judging by the smirk you feel pressed against your feverish skin, it has the intended effect.

Azriel leaves one more kiss on the column of your throat before giving in to your silent demand, coming up to press your lips together again, and allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck to keep him in place, moaning at your eagerness.

The feeling of him against you was mind numbing, you didn't know if you wanted to keep kissing him forever, or if you should give him the same treatment he gave you, and start running your mouth over every bit of deliciously looking exposed skin. You run your hand down his torso at the thought, deciding that you need something else entirely when your fingers move past the muscles he's worked so hard for, the scars he'd survived from, to follow a path of hair leading down to his waistband.

At this your intentions become clear and the kiss intensifies, getting messier as Azriel explores every corner of your mouth, your hands fumbling to unbutton his pants and his following suit, fingers easily finding the small zipper keeping your dress in place, ready to take it off.

“What do we have here?”

An amused voice startles you, a familiar surge of power filtering into the room, making you tense and push away from Azriel, trying to get away from him in an effort to make yourself look as presentable as you could. However, Azriel doesn't move or allow you to, keeping you in place as his shadows move to cover the both of you - you hadn't even noticed they were scattered around the room and not on his person as they usually prefered to be.

You feel him relax softly as he realizes who interrupted you, but this realization had the opposite effect on you. The person standing at the door was none other than the High Lord of the Night Court, and he had just found you half naked and about to fuck his Spymaster in his house, presumably on top of his desk. Azriel keeps one hand on the small of your back comfortingly as he stares at Rhysand, and you try to move away once more, your mind racing to find a way to apologize and leave as quickly as possible.

“You don't have to stop on my account,” he purrs, “You were putting on quite the show.”

The suggestive tone in his voice makes you momentarily forget your predicament, turning your head back to watch him, the sight prompting a small gasp past your lips. Rhysand had shed his jacket since the last time you'd seen him in the middle of the ballroom, his silk shirt was unbuttoned well past his chest as well, giving you a tantalizing view of his chest, his usually perfectly styled hair messy as if he'd been running his hand through it, a few strands falling over his forehead. He truly looked like temptation personified, but that wasn't anything new, what caught your attention was the desire on his face.

As the silence stretches uncomfortably in the room, you realize they must be speaking to each other in their minds using Rhysand's daemati abilities. Neither of them looks mad or worried, which allows you to relax at last, but you're still confused about the whole situation, and the way your underwear sticks to your folds isn't helping you think. You also feel a little left out as they keep watching each other, exchanging words that go unspoken, as if you weren't there in the first place. Seeing as they seem distracted enough, you take the opportunity to push away from Azriel and hop down from the table, not going far since his hands fall on your hips immediately, keeping you close as he finally looks down at you.

“I mean it, Az. We can both have her. You know I don't mind sharing, much less with you,” the High Lord finally says out loud.

The intensity in Azriel's beautiful hazel eyes, and the weight of his grip on your hips distract you for a moment, not allowing you to understand Rhysand's words right away, but when the implication clicks in your mind, you turn around abruptly, facing the High Lord with wide eyes. Azriel lets you, one of his hands leaving your hip in favor of holding onto the desk as he too studies the male who interrupted you.

“What do you mean?”

You had surmised that their little mental conversation had been about you, but hearing Rhysand's proposition had made every thought evaporate from your mind. You'd rather hear every word out of their minds, lest your body gets any ideas before you can comprehend what's going on. You'd also appreciate being kept in the loop.

Rhysand watches you for a second, purple irises appreciatively roaming over your entire form before holding your gaze. Azriel's shadows were still draped over you, but, since he was the High Lord of Night, you're not sure if he could actually see through them as well. It certainly felt like he could as his eyes burned into you, your body reacting as if he was actually touching you.

It seems he's searching your face for something, though you're not exactly sure what and have no time to think on it as he reaches a conclusion, a smirk appearing on his face as he starts walking around the desk with unhurried steps until he reaches you. Your body unknowingly followed him, and Azriel followed yours, until Rhysand was standing right in front of you, your neck bent so you could look up at him, and the shadowsinger stood behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his naked body, keeping you stuck in between the two irresistible males.

Rhysand's hand comes up to tuck your hair behind your ear, thumb moving to hold your chin, the golden rings he wears cool against your burning skin, as he finally answers your question, talking slowly, clearly, “It's no secret you want us both, darling,”

“What?”

If it wasn't for his hand holding your face, you would have looked away in shame the second the words left his mouth. His amused, self-satisfied expression doesn't help either.

“You're not exactly good at hiding your emotions,” he taps your left cheek twice with his finger, proving his point as your breath hitches and you fail miserably to school your expression, his wicked smile growing, before he pulls his hand away and adds, “Your thoughts tend to be particularly loud as well.”

This gives you pause, heart stalling in your chest. You're more than aware of his daemati abilities, but you also had seen him be nothing but respectful of others' wishes when using them. The Night Court has always been known to be conniving, even cruel, but you've had enough contact with the Winter Court's High Lord and seen enough important figures from other courts to know that this only meant they'd rather people know how far they could go than hide behind pleasant, fake masks. After meeting the Inner Circle personally, you were even more sure of this. You had never thought it possible that he would read your mind against your will but now you weren't so sure.

Rhysand continues, as if he was really privy to your thoughts and knew where your mind had gone, “Of course I try my best not to hear any of them, but it's very tempting when I hear my own name.”

“You're scaring her, Rhys,” Azriel warns.

His voice cuts through your spiraling thoughts and the tension in the room, prompting both you and Rhysand to look at him. You had almost forgotten he was still here, and when his gaze meets yours, you wonder how that was even possible.

You take a step to the side and lean against the desk so you could keep your eyes on both of them as you talk. It was also a way of getting a moment to breathe without their scents suffocating you, giving you too many unfiltered thoughts, especially since you weren't sure if they were only yours anymore. Rhysand seems to sober up at his Spymaster's words, the amused expression leaving his face almost completely as he reaches to hold your hand carefully, squeezing it once comfortingly before speaking.

“My mistake. I was just having a bit of fun, darling. I promise I never went into your mind without your knowledge. I also do my best to leave the room when I find myself unable to tune your thoughts out.” You can hear the sincerity in his voice, and that paired with the way he was holding your hand in his larger one, as if it was a normal occurrence, made you relax. “But my point still stands, it's impossible not to notice the way you look at me, and at Az.”

You're certainly no spymaster but you didn't think you were that obvious either. No one had ever called you out on anything of the sort. Your eyes fall on the silent shadowsinger, wondering if it was obvious for him as well, even if he can't hear your unusually loud thoughts as Rhysand had put it. Azriel's face gives nothing away, if it wasn't for the way his scent changed since you walked into this room and the obvious bulge straining in his pants, anyone that wandered in would believe you were actually talking about something as insignificant as the weather. He's making no efforts to soothe you so you suppose that's answer enough. He wouldn't be a very good Spymaster if he couldn't even notice the female gawking at him every time he's in the room after all.

“So you mean…” you trail off, not wanting to jump to conclusions as you look from one male to the other. This all seemed too good to be true, you were half sure you'd wake up in a few moments to find yourself in your bed, and this had all been a cruel trick your mind came up with.

“You can have us both, darling,” he confirms, squeezing your hand.

“Unless you want to stop,” Azriel reassures.

“No,” you're fast to say. Nerves or no nerves, you would see this through. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. That amused expression returns to Rhysand's face at your outburst, and it seems to be contagious as it travels to Azriel's face, albeit more muted. You swallow and try to calm your heart, wanting to do things right so as not to ruin the moment.

“I don't want to stop, but how are we doing this?” You ask slowly, trying not to let the heat of their stares get to you.

You wouldn't say you're particularly shy or inexperienced when it comes to sex, but you've never been with two people at the same time. It doesn't help that they happen to be two of the most beautiful males you've ever laid eyes on, not to mention one is the only Shadowsinger in Prythian, maybe the world, and the other is the High Lord of the Night Court, the strongest in history. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, trying to rub your thighs together as discreetly as possible at the thought. Of course the movement doesn't go unnoticed, both of the males' eyes glazing over further as their gazes dip down to your center before meeting yours again.

“I was quite enjoying myself watching the two of you, and it's only fair to let Azriel go first. He already started after all.”

“We can move to one of the rooms if you want,” Azriel offers kindly. He's proving to be such a sweetheart next to the menace standing beside him. You nod, a bed would be a lot easier to work with than this desk.

In the blink of an eye, you're winnowed to a dark room. Not having enough time to fully take in the ornate decorations around the room before Rhysand leans down to press a chaste kiss on your cheek and moves to a reading chair, pulling it closer to the bed before sitting down, a glass of whiskey appearing on his hand out of thin air. It seems he meant it when he said he wanted to watch.

“You can let me see her now, Az.” You hadn't even noticed his shadows were still clinging to your skin, keeping your flushed body hidden away from Rhysand's hungry eyes.

Azriel does as his High Lord asks, sending his shadows to every corner of the room until not one is covering either of you. It's a strange sight, to see the shadowsinger bare of his shadows.

His hands move to take your dress off, pulling it over your head in a single movement. It seems the urgency from before was returning as he pulled you in for another kiss, your hands moving around his neck on instinct. As he starts walking you backwards towards the bed, your brain regrettably catches up to you once more, reminding you that you're in the Night Court on business, so being caught in this situation could make you lose the job you've worked so hard for, and so you break the kiss to ask, “Are you sure no one will see us?” You almost whine when he stops, even if it was your own fault.

“I won't let anyone come in this room,” he promises, staring into your eyes.

“He did.”

“This is my house, darling,” Rhysand clarifies from his chair, “We're the only ones here.”

Azriel rolls his eyes softly, leaning down to kiss you again, noticeably slower than before. Taking his time to coax your body to follow his, hands moving over you appreciatively, almost reverently. He moves down your neck, biting over the same marks he had left before, allowing your body to relax further into him.

“Breathe,” he mumbles against your skin.

“I'd hate to think my presence won't allow you to relax.” It's certainly making you all tingly. “I've been nothing but good to you.”

“I'm just a bit nervous.”

“I can keep Rhysand quiet if you want,” Azriel says, completely serious, making you smile, any lingering tension leaving your muscles at the offer. You would actually love to see how Azriel would keep the High Lord quiet, something tells you he would succeed.

“That's not it. I just…” you bite your lip, hand moving to hold the back of his neck, playing with the short hair growing in, “I've never done this before,” you confess.

“This?”

“I mean having someone watching me,” you explain, not wanting them to think you don't want to do this.

Azriel hums, thumb caressing your cheek as he leans in. “Just let me take care of you,” he says, tilting your head how he wants it, lips bumping against yours with every word, “You won't even remember he's still here.”

“We'll see about that,” Rhysand chuckles, sending a small burst of his power over the room, prompting a shiver to run down your spine, Azriel's too judging by the way his body trembled against yours, even his wings twitched a bit - you wonder if the High Lord noticed that, if he liked it.

The shadowsinger chooses to ignore him in favor of tasting you again. Deepening the kiss immediately as he continues his journey towards the bed, uninterrupted this time, carefully pushing you down on the mattress, his body following yours, his warmth never leaving you. You don't miss the way he arranges your bodies so that Rhysand can watch everything he does to you from his seat by the side of the bed. When he pulled out that chair, you hadn't noticed how close he had placed it, but even with both yours and Azriel's labored breaths filling your ears, Rhysand was close enough that you could still hear his, could smell his arousal deepening his scent, the same way he could hear and smell you as well.

As your thoughts wander, Azriel breaks away from your mouth so he can travel down your body, as if he had the same mind reading abilities as his High Lord and wanted all your attention on him. Leaving wet kisses in his wake, sharp canine teeth teasing your skin and warm tongue tasting the sheen of sweat forming all over your body, he achieves just that, your mind not even remembering the violet eyes burning into you.

At last, his mouth finds the hem of your panties, tugging on the fabric playfully with his teeth and letting them snap against your skin. You let out a soft gasp at that, getting up on your elbows so you can watch him better, meeting his gaze. His hulking body was sprawled on the bed, huge wings thrown to the sides, out of his way, as he grabs your thighs and pulls them apart, making you plant your feet on the mattress so he can fit himself between your legs better, the backs of your soft thighs meeting the hard muscle of his shoulders.

“Azriel,” you pant, needing him to do something. The way he studies the damp fabric clinging to your folds making you tremble with desire. The hum that comes from deep in his chest when hearing his name not helping your case. Your hands fist the sheets until your knuckles turn white, trying to stop yourself from grabbing his head and guiding him right where you need him.

Taking pity on you, he moves in, but not before letting his hot breath meet your damp skin, just so he could hear you say his name in that breathy tone one more time. Pressing an open mouthed kiss over the drenched fabric, he lets out a moan of his own.

“How does she taste?”

Azriel looks into your eyes, smirking at the shiver that crosses your body as you're reminded of your audience. “Absolutely perfect,” he murmurs, still pressed against you.

Rhysand shifts in his chair, but you don't have the opportunity to see what he's doing because Azriel hooks his thumb under the lace barely covering your heat in that same moment. He pushes your panties aside and repeats the same motion as before, tasting you properly this time. After licking a broad stripe across your cunt, he lets his tongue swirl around your clit, once, twice, humming when you moan his name again, head falling back against the mattress, hands finally moving to tangle in his soft hair, not caring about anything else besides the pleasure he's giving you, thinking he would continue.

The annoyingly attractive smirk from before grows even larger when you whimper and lift your head to look down at him in protest, almost pouting when he pulls away suddenly and lets your underwear snap back into place. You might have been too quick to assume he was nicer than Rhysand. He shushes you mockingly, getting up on his knees as scarred hands move to your sides, squeezing the flesh appreciatively before grabbing hold of your panties and running them down your legs slowly, taking the obstructive fabric off and leaving your body completely naked for his eyes to feast on.

Azriel doesn't take his eyes off you as he balls the fabric a bit, throwing it blindly at Rhysand, who easily catches them with a satisfied smirk on his face. The High Lord had completely unbuttoned his shirt at some point, letting the dark silk frame his body as he lounged in the chair. Not that you had any doubts, but he was truly mesmerizing. He winks at you when he finds you watching him, bringing the glass down from his lips as one hand - the one still holding onto the thrown underwear - travels to his crotch, squeezing himself and letting out an obscene moan, closing his eyes at the stimulation. Azriel is breathing hard in front of you, and, by the way his hand is frozen on your thigh, you don't have to look to know he also can't tear his eyes away from Rhysand.

“I'm the one who's supposed to be watching,” he reminds the two of you, a taunting lilt to his voice, chuckling when you both look at each other once more.

This sets the shadowsinger into motion once more, a slight frown taking over his features, disappointed for being caught by the High Lord. He comes up to kiss you again, spreading your legs, so he can fit himself between them, falling into your body. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him as close to you as physically possible, moaning into the kiss when his hard length presses right where you need him most, bucking your hips instinctively back and forth, the fabric of his pants adding just enough friction.

He indulges you for a bit, guiding your hips and meeting your thrusts halfway as you grind on him unashamedly. Wanting to hear every little noise you let out, he moves down to your chest, biting and sucking everywhere he can reach, completely devouring you. The shadowsinger seems to be trying to make good on his promise of making you forget Rhysand was watching, a competitive streak of sorts rising up after the little stunt the High Lord pulled just now. Maybe you should thank him because for a moment you think you even forgot your own name.

You were embarrassingly close to an orgasm when he stops your movements, strong hands holding your hips in place, silencing yet another whine with a kiss as his hand moves to find your cunt, gathering as much wetness as he can before pressing one finger inside you slowly, letting out a curse and quickly adding another one when he hardly finds any resistance. The squelching noises it elicits are absolutely sinful, and entirely too loud for the quietness in the room.

“Just wanted to get you ready for me, but I think you can cum like this, can't you?” He punctuates the question with a chaste kiss, one you don't even have the awareness to reciprocate, entirely too far gone already. His voice sounds deeper, rougher than usual. It's making your toes curl, and it alone could send you falling into that orgasm, walls fluttering wildly around his fingers.

Just as you're getting lost in the throes of pleasure once again, teeth come down on your neck - a warning. You open your eyes at the sudden, unexpected pain, not even realizing you had closed them in the first place. Meeting his gaze, you try to understand what he wants as the hazel in his eyes threatens to drown you.

“That was a question, angel,” he explains, slowing down his pace, fingers barely moving inside you now, but still keeping you full. You don't remember the last time you had been this turned on, there's no need to look down for you to know your wetness is running down his hand and soaking the dark sheets, your thighs coated in it too.

“Let's try again,” Azriel says, keeping your attention on him and thrusting his fingers in deeper, massaging that place that makes you see stars. He repeats the question, honey dripping from his words like poison, “Can you cum like this?”

“Please,” you beg mindlessly, finding your voice at last, arms tightening their hold around his neck. His skin felt like an aphrodisiac against yours, making you want more and more. In this moment, you probably would have done anything he wanted as long as he kept touching you.

Moans rise in volume as he speeds up just enough, adjusting your legs with his knee and leaning down to take one nipple into his mouth, sucking on it before biting down softly on the hard peak and letting the tip of his tongue play with it, his hair tickling your skin.

It doesn't take long until you're falling over the edge, it feels like you've been dangling from it ever since he first put his hands on you. Pleasure rushes to every nerve in your body as you moan out his name mixed in with other incoherent pleas, nails digging into his skin, pulling out deep groans of his own. He lets you ride out your high, still thrusting his fingers in and out of you slowly even when he pulls away slightly, your arms falling from your hold on him as he sits up between your spread, quivering legs.

When your breathing calms down enough and you open your eyes, you find him entranced by the way his digits move inside you. His other hand had found its way into his pants, stroking himself in time with his thrusts. You sit up then, catching him by surprise at your eagerness as you tug down on his waist band, revealing his cock to the warm air in the room.

Azriel lets out a hiss when you wrap your hand around his length, fascinated by the way the tips of your fingers can't even touch each other. You'd never had anyone as big or thick as him, and the thought only made you wetter. Saliva pooled in your mouth as you studied him, thumb running up a particularly prominent vein, following its path up until you found his leaking head, feeling its softness on the pad of your thumb. Wanting to lean down and take him into your mouth, needing to know the weight and taste of him on your tongue as he drove his length down your throat.

“This is what I mean when I say your thoughts are too loud,” the usual teasing voice had a noticeable edge to it now, a breathiness that wasn't there before. When you look over at him, you find the High Lord's composure slipping through, hand grabbing onto the arm of the chair a little too hard, mouth slightly open as his breathing gets heavier.

Feeling bold, you look right into his violet eyes, letting your mind run wild as you imagined Azriel fucking your mouth, the filthy images pulling a moan out of Rhysand, loud enough that the shadowsinger looks to him in question, an eyebrow raised, barely hiding the amused look on his face since the High Lord looked as if he was the one who had your hand wrapped around his cock.

“She wants to suck your cock.” He sounds like he wants to watch you do it even more. You watch as Azriel's eyes glaze over, a hair raising noise escaping him. Rhysand had probably shown him all your little thoughts, the traitor.

“Is that so?” His voice was gravely, heavy with arousal. You nod enthusiastically in response, tightening your grip around him, a hiss escaping him before he can regain his composure. “We'll have to leave it for another time, angel,” he says, pulling your hand away from him, and prompting a whimper out of you, one he rushes to silence with a thumb over your lips. “First I need to fuck you.”

The desire in that statement sets you off, a frenzy that wasn't there before flooding your brain and pushing every sane thought out. Your hands move to help him remove his clothes, grabbing his neck and pulling him into a desperate kiss the moment they hit the floor. Azriel pushes you back down on the bed in a mess of limbs, teeth on teeth and heart to heart.

The next moments are hazy in your mind, one minute your hand had found its way back around his cock, swallowing every noise he let out, admiring the way his wings fluttered when you swirled your thumb around his head, and the next he had both of your wrists over your head in a steady grip, grinding his cock over your folds a few times before moving down, finally lining himself up with your cunt.

You catch a glimpse of the gentleman who's been assisting you in your work in the way he looks up at you in confirmation one more time, giving you the opportunity to tap out before things went further. Of course stopping was the last thing in your mind, but your heart fluttered at the thoughtfulness just the same. You nod at him, adjusting your thighs, opening them even more in invitation. A moan escapes you when you feel him push in, closing your eyes involuntarily at the stretch.

He goes slowly, giving you enough time to adjust and coming to a pause every time you show any little sign of discomfort until he bottoms out inside you, a breath of relief escaping you. It's not long until he's properly fucking you, both of you needing more.

As soon as he lets go of your wrists, deciding he would rather guide your hips as you meet his thrusts, your hands move to touch him, tugging on his hair, running your nails down his back. You hug him to you as close as physically possible, feeling his hard, warm body move against yours as he brings you unimaginable pleasure with every thrust of his hips.

No one has ever made you feel this insatiable before, and the suffocating power that filters through the room only makes your senses more heightened. You never thought having someone watching you in such a compromising situation would bring you so much pleasure, but your heart hasn't stopped beating out of time ever since Rhysand walked into that office.

“Azriel,” his name escapes in the midst of the breathy moans after a particularly deep thrust, one that has his pelvis grinding right over your clit in a maddening angle. You could feel him so deep inside you, you know it will be impossible to ever forget the way your walls hug him, the way he hits all the right spots.

“I know,” he says, leaning back and pushing your legs back towards your torso, your knees coming up to your head, spreading you completely open for him, making him go even deeper as he holds you in position.

It doesn't take much longer until you're cumming around his cock, a broken moan cutting itself short as your breath gets knocked out of you. You barely feel the way his hips falter, slowing down to avoid falling over the edge with you. He had every intention of playing with you a while longer before handing you over to his High Lord.

Azriel keeps fucking you through your orgasm, never stopping even when you come down from your high, a new one already building. He lets go of your legs, dropping them on his shoulders so he can hold onto your waist instead, moving your body in time with his thrusts. Sweat kept his hair stuck to his forehead, his wings spread out behind him, mouth agape as he watched his cock drive in and out of your heat, a ring of your cum forming around his base, making the sight so much more erotic.

“You have no idea how good you feel,” he murmurs to himself, the confession making you let out yet another embarrassing noise, one of your hands moving to hold onto his wrist. He meets your eyes, continuing with the mind numbing praise, “how beautiful you look like this, taking me so well.”

“You're making me feel so good too, Azriel,” you confess between heavy breaths, the way his cock bumps into every pleasurable point inside you making it hard to even breathe, let alone talk. He was going in so deep you swear you could almost feel him in your throat.

“Yeah?”

Biting your lip, you nod up at him, holding his gaze, wanting the hazel to consume you. Azriel's face is usually set into a mostly emotionless mask, fitting for the role of Spymaster, and even though he often shows more of his emotions when he's at ease, especially around his family, you've never seen him quite so open. He was completely unguarded as he looked down at you, not even his shadows coming to hide any part of him away from you.

It's this that pulls you under the waves of pleasure, letting go once more, giving way for yet another mind breaking orgasm, breath catching in your throat when he speeds up as you spasm against him, chasing his own high and intensifying your own as a result. Your entire field of vision goes black before you even close your eyes, the pleasure so intense you forget yourself for a good few moments, barely registering the way Azriel's body trembles along with your own, the curse that leaves his lips when he finally lets go, his hips stuttering as he cums deep inside you, filling you up in every sense of the word.

You're a mess of limbs and sweat by the time you both come down, struggling to catch your breaths, his heavy pants hitting your damp skin as you both try to get a hold of yourselves. Azriel leans down to give you a languid, messy kiss, savoring your taste as he gives you a few more shallow thrusts, keeping you full of him, and almost making you want to beg him to fuck you again.

He pecks your lips one last time, a chaste kiss compared to anything else that has transpired between you tonight, moving to the side to leave a few kisses on his way to your ear, where he leaned down to whisper, “You did so good for me, beautiful.” A breathy moan escapes you at the praise, at the deep timbre of his voice as he whispers it so close to your ear. You feel his lips stretch into a smile at the sound, rewarding you with another soft kiss before continuing, “It's time to give our High Lord some attention too, don't you think?”

His words drive you to look to your side, finding said High Lord watching you intently, his pupils so blown out you can barely recognize the distinct purple of his eyes, sitting back on his chair, one hand holding onto an empty whiskey glass, thumb slowly running over the rim. You could clearly see the black lace of your panties peeking out from his pocket, it seems he intended to keep them. He had long since unbuttoned his pants, allowing his underwear to peek out. There was a noticeable strain over the crotch of his pants, in fact if it weren't for the angle, you're certain you could make out the shape of his cock through the expensive fabric. The way his pants were pushed down over his hips, told you he hadn't resisted the temptation of stroking himself while he watching Azriel fuck you, the thought sending a shiver down on your body.

It's not that you forgot Rhysand was right there, his presence is entirely too powerful to ever go unnoticed, but Azriel had truly fucked you into a brainless mess for a moment, and watching the High Lord now, after already having his Spymaster, the only thing on your mind is doing exactly what Azriel said and give him all your attention.

With one last kiss, Azriel moves away from you, carefully pulling out and getting up with a lingering look at the way his cum was leaking out of your hole now that nothing was keeping it in. You swear you could even see his semi hard cock twitch at the sight, closing your legs so it didn't run down onto the sheets. He walks to the nightstand, grabbing a glass of water as he unknowingly puts on a show of his own, his entire body on display as the light catches on his sweaty skin. Azriel looked like nothing less than a God in that moment.

Sitting up slightly, your eyes move to Rhysand, more than ready for him, but not exactly sure how to go about it, hoping he would take the initiative. You had expected him to still be watching you, but that isn't what you find. Instead the High Lord was focused on his Spymaster, completely captivated by his body the same way you had been mere seconds ago. You briefly wonder just how many times they've done this before, and how many times they've taken it further. The thought makes something inside you flutter, pressing your thighs together as you feel yourself growing wetter once again. Insatiable didn't even begin to describe what these males were turning you into.

“If you don't hurry up, I'll just fuck her again, Rhys,” the shadowsinger says behind his glass, looking up at the male in question.

It feels like time stops for a moment when their eyes meet, the usual roles reversing as the High Lord forgets himself momentarily under Azriel's gaze, desire spilling over and flooding the room. You can pinpoint the moment Rhysand catches himself, that self-assured air he always has about him returning as a smirk falls over his lips. He even sends a pulse of his power across the room, finally standing from his chair.

“You're always rushing me, Az,” he purrs, “As if you don't enjoy playing with your food as well.”

“Food?” You meant for it to sound like a question, a little offended even, but it almost sounded like a plea. You were starting to feel a little left out watching the tension between the two males.

“Oh, darling,” he breathes out, looking at the way you sat waiting for him on the bed, “I'll show you in just a moment.”

As he walks to you, Azriel moves over to take his place silently, sending you an encouraging wink when he sits down and finds you watching him. This situation is foreign to you, and, as much as you believe that Azriel has no problems with Rhysand being here at all, it doesn't change the fact that you had spent the night with him, laughing and talking, he had been the one to kiss you first, pulling you into that office, all this while you've barely exchanged any words with the High Lord, you had even seen him more often before this night.

Your view of him gets obstructed when Rhysand reaches the bed, standing over you as he takes off his pants, having already discarded his shirt on the way. Since you were sitting, you were perfectly leveled with his crotch, getting a front seat to the way his heavy cock hung as he finally freed it from its confines. The tip was glistening, begging for you to put it in your mouth and taste it.

“You didn't pay this much attention to me when I was the one sitting on that chair.” The words break you from your trance, eyes traveling up his chiseled torso to look up at his smug face.

It is true that you've spent a lot more time with Azriel, and had barely been able to even remember the High Lord was right there, maybe you should rectify that. Reaching out and grabbing his cock firmly, you decide to show him Azriel wasn't the only one you wanted. Your tongue finds the tip of his cock, licking away the precum gathered there and moving to swirl around the head, tasting him properly. A surprised gasp escaped his lips, one strong hand instinctively holding the back of your head when you put the whole tip in your mouth, sucking loudly as you grip his base.

He was around the same size as Azriel, and you really weren't sure just how much you would be able to fit into your mouth without gagging, but you were determined to get as much in as you could. As your other hand moves to hold his hip, you start pushing him deeper as you bob your head, letting him help you as he thrust a few times into your hot mouth, managing to get a quarter of the way in before he tangles his fingers on your hair, pushing you off him.

You look up at him in question, a string of spit still connecting your lips and his cock. You're trying hard not to pout like he had just taken your favorite toy away from you, but this is the second time they won't let you pleasure them.

“If you keep going I'll cum,” he explains, clearly holding back. This makes you feel better, powerful even, seeing how much he's affected by you.

“That's the point, High Lord,” you say, tightening your hold around his cock, licking his tip playfully, smirking when he lets out a groan from deep in his chest. There was an air of authority in the sound - he liked it when you called him by his title, and you're certain you'd love the way he would put you in your place.

“I'm going to take care of you first,” he murmurs, thumb caressing your bottom lip, “You've been so good for us. I think you deserve it.”

He leans down, holding your head in his hands as he pulls you in for a kiss, pulling away too quickly for your liking, studying your face. Your eyes were still a bit unfocused and your lips were kissed raw, shiny with spit - yours, Azriel's and his. He can't help but bite softly and lick over your bottom lip at the thought. He then lets his eyes travel down your body, ignoring your soft whimper.

He instructs you to lay back down, and your body moves to obey his command immediately, back falling against the mattress once more, almost trembling with anticipation as you wait for his next move. Biting your lip to stop another whine from escaping when his hand replaces yours for a moment, stroking himself twice, spreading your spit all over his shaft as he studies your body. Rhysand took his time mapping out the bruises and bites his spymaster left on your spent body, his hands falling to the exact same place on your hips Azriel's had been.

“Az really made a mess of you,” he moans out, as if the way he had been eyeing you up wasn't enough to make you want to jump his bones.

Spreading your legs so he could fit himself between them properly, Azriel's cum starts running down your hole. Your breath catches in your throat when Rhysand kneels down before you even get the chance to react, tongue stopping his spymaster's cum from falling down onto the mattress, groaning deeply at the taste. He runs his tongue over your folds a couple of times, your hands fisting the sheets as he teases your already too sensitive clit, before moving back down to your heat, hands holding your thighs apart as he starts cleaning out Azriel's cum straight from inside you, driving you absolutely insane in the process.

“Fuck,” you hear the whispered curse come from the shadowsinger's, the chair squeaking as he leans back, likely feeling the same frenzy you did watching the High Lord eating his cum right out of your cunt.

From the first moment Rhysand walked into the room, you knew there had to have been more going on between the two that you had ever suspected, but you hadn't expected this. He was eating you like you were his favorite meal, moaning out in pleasure all the while. You had no doubts Rhysand wanted you, the fact was clear in his blown out eyes as he watched you throughout the night, but you don't think he wants Azriel any less, even though you were willing to bet he has already had him before.

The sloppy sounds echoing around the room would have probably embarrassed you in any other situation, had it been anyone else in the room. Your scents had mixed so thoroughly, there was no way to know where either of you began or ended. There were tears spilling from your eyes at the intense feelings wrecking through your body. Azriel had already made you cum so many times, you were too sensitive, but somehow still craving more.

A sudden movement makes you focus on the ceiling through blurry eyes, noting the way Azriel's shadows swirled around the dark painted wall, spying on you and Rhysand. If either of you were in the right state of mind, you would have noticed the way Azriel's breath came out in short pants, hand finding his way onto his already hardening cock as his shadows explained everything to him down to every sordid detail - the way your body trembles under Rhys' skilled tongue, white knuckled as you desperately tried to cling to your sanity; the delighted sounds escaping Rhys as he dove deeper and deeper inside you, cleaning you out of the shadowsinger's essence.

In the midst of the mind numbing pleasure, you hear a familiar voice whispering right inside your head, unwilling to tear himself away long enough to say the words out loud. Tell me when you're close, darling. He had never spoken straight into your mind before, and the feeling of his voice echoing in your mind mixed with the way he was already devouring your cunt, almost makes you cum right then and there.

Your hips were stuck between grinding onto his face and arching back, your own body not sure if it could handle everything Rhysand was giving you. It was all too much, the feeling of his warm tongue licking and sucking at your abused walls, the thumb oh so softly petting your clit, only giving it enough pressure, the heavy breaths coming from Azriel who was now watching you, their scents heavy in the air, their power thrumming through the room.

“I'm close,” you pant, eyes closing as your hand falls to play with his soft hair, “So, so close.”

He hums in response, lulling you into a fake sense of security before pulling away unexpectedly, right as you were about to fall into ecstasy. You let out a noise between a whine and a sob, gripping his hair harder, trying to guide him back to where you needed him. If they kept pushing away from you like this, you'd just push them onto the mattress and ride them to your heart's content.

“Bastard.”

Rhysand simply chuckles down at you, a cruel curve to his smirk, pulling your hand away from his hair far too easily given the death grip you had on the strands, even licking the palm up until the space between your fingers teasingly before letting go of it. He comes down to kiss you, silencing your cries and whatever nasty insult was following with his mouth, putting most of his weight on you to keep you melting into him.

You bite his lip vindictively, nails carving his skin, prompting yet another laugh out of him, infinitely amused by your temper. The taste of copper fills your mouth, intertwining with his and Azriel's tastes perfectly, neither of you stopping your assault as your tongues battled for dominance.

When he finally pulls away, both of your chests moving rapidly, the exact spot where your canines have pierced through were still visible on the plush skin of his lips, blood barely trickling down as his healing moved to tamper it down. Gods, blood looked good on him.

“Is this any way to treat your High Lord?” he questions, licking his wounded lip.

“You're not my High Lord,” you whisper back defiantly.

“I am for as long as you're in my court,” he starts, one of his hands running along your skin until he finds one of your breasts, thumb circling your nipple, your body treacherously arching into his touch, delighting him to no end. “Especially when you're in my bed.”

“I'm not sure how my High Lord would feel about that.”

Rhysand tilts his head to the side, eyebrow raising as a strangely possessive look falling over his eyes. “I can always send you back to him with my cum inside you,” hand abandoning your chest with one pinch to your sensitive nipple, “see what he thinks about it.”

“I think you mean your Spymaster's cum,” you say, mirroring his smirk when his breath hitches just a touch.

“Cleaned that all out, darling” the way he clenched his jaw told you his patience was close to snapping, and oh did you want to see it happen.

“He was so deep inside me,” your hand falls over your stomach as if demonstrating him, “I'm sure there's still some of it left.”

“You weren't this mouthy with Azriel.”

“I was too busy getting fucked to talk back.”

You're not sure if it was your words or the chuckle Azriel lets out that does it, but Rhysand lets out a growl, a deliciously powerful sound that echoes throughout the room, and makes you tremble in anticipation. His eyes narrow as he looks down at you, baring his teeth when you open your mouth to tease him once more, and flipping you over on your stomach before you manage to get the words out.

“Then let's keep that pretty mouth screaming my name instead.”

The High Lord is always so calm and collected, never losing his composure in front of anyone, but here he was, losing his control all because of you. He grabs your hips, lifting them up enough to place a couple of pillows under you, keeping your body raised at the right angle. You feel his palms fall over your asscheeks, spreading them apart, exposing you to him completely.

Pushing up on your elbows, you try to keep yourself up and turn your head around as far back as you can to see what he's up to, finding him dropping a string of saliva right onto your cunt. He meets your gaze right as it falls, its warmth dripping over you, before looking back down, grabbing hold of his aching cock and lining himself up, wasting no more time as he bottoms out in one single stroke of his hips.

Your forehead falls against the mattress, a broken moan escaping you at the suddenness, almost no sound coming out as if he had taken the air right out of your lungs. He doesn't give you any time to adjust either, grabbing your hips in a tight grip and thrusting into you at a reckless, punishing pace.

“Rhysand,” you moan loudly, just like he wanted you to. Rhys, he corrects in your mind. “Rhys,” you repeat, holding onto the sheets, “please don't stop.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

The sounds filling the room are downright filthy as he fucks into you. If you knew this would be the result, you would have started taunting him back a lot sooner. You're playing with fire, darling. You can't help but choke out a laugh between the pathetic moans escaping your lips, resulting in a particularly hard thrust from him, though you can almost feel that familiar smirk returning to his face.

That might have been the only downside to this: you couldn't look at him as he fucked you, couldn't see the way his face scrunched up in pleasure as your walls gripped his cock. You're not exactly sure if he read your thoughts again, but he slows down just enough to lean down over you, caging your body under his, his entire torso pressed against your back as he continues his assault in deep, hard thrusts.

You try to match the rhythm of his hips, arching your back into him to the best of your ability, chasing what could very well be your strongest orgasm yet. His muscles moved against you, tensing when you squeezed too hard around him involuntarily, one of his hands grabs yours, intertwining your fingers together, as his forehead falls against your shoulder.

“I'm so close, Rhys,” you choke out, feeling that knot getting impossibly tighter, threatening to completely wreck you when it snapped.

“You can let go, darling,” he pants, “I'm right there with you.”

It's hard to say if Rhys had been the one to search for Azriel's mind or if the spymaster had the idea on his own, but an image is projected onto the High Lord's mind in that moment, one that has him letting out a deep groan, sharp teeth finding your shoulder, hips faltering as he tries not to cum right then. He shares it with you as soon as he catches himself, the image of Rhysand fucking into you from Azriel's perspective filling your mind, a whiny moan leaving your lips.

You could barely see yourself under the High Lord's strong body, the way his back arched and his muscles moved with every thrust taking your breath away. Azriel was clearly focused on the way Rhysand's cock barely pulled out from you, only ever coming out until about halfway before slamming back in, pulling out otherwise pathetic sounds out of you. You could see the way your hole stretched to accommodate his thick length, thicker than you've ever had, clamping down on him viciously.

Apparently you had been right to assume there was still some of Azriel's cum inside you as it now formed a ring around Rhysand's cock mixing in with your own juices, the excess spilling down your cunt and dripping onto the sheets, covering your thighs and his, coating his balls.

As sinful as the sight was, what pushed both you and Rhysand over the edge were Azriel's unfiltered thoughts accompanying it and the desire that could be felt through them. You could tell just how much he was enjoying the show, eyes transfixed on the way your bodies moved together, stuck between wanting to keep watching, and wanting to join you, slip his cock right into your inviting mouth, muffle the sounds echoing around the room, or come up behind you, the arch of Rhysand's back would make it so easy to just slide right into his High Lord, fucking him as he fucked you.

Your entire mind goes blank when your orgasm reaches you, losing sense of your surroundings as you're pulled under. Rhys falls over your body, barely catching himself before crushing you with his weight. It takes a while before you actually feel like you can breathe or focus on anything at all, almost purring as the first thing you feel is Rhys' leaving soothing kisses over your skin, murmuring praises as he moves.

Turning your head you try to find his lips, failing as the angle works against you. A sigh escapes you when he pecks your cheek, pulling out of you with a wince, body trembling at the oversensitivity, and flips you over carefully letting you kiss him to your heart's content, molding your bodies together until you can't see where one begins and the other ends.

After a few moments, Rhys holds onto you, lifting you up with him as he sits up on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, your mouth running down his neck, marking the perfect skin and reveling in the soft sounds he rewards you with, his hands massaging your spent body tenderly.

“It seems we have a problem, darling,” he says, voice hoarse. You move your head away from his collarbone, looking up at him to find him watching something behind you - Azriel. The hunger written on his face tells you the night is far from being over, you swear you could feel him getting harder against your thigh.

You hadn't paid enough attention to Azriel in a while, too distracted with the mind numbing pleasure the High Lord was giving you. Turning your head around to see what that problem was exactly, you almost let out a moan at the sight. Azriel was still sitting on the same chair Rhysand had been before him, face leaning on his palm as he held his High Lord's gaze. He was sitting with his legs spread out, long, hard cock standing proudly against his abs, a bit of precum wetting the skin. You can't help but swallow when his hazel eyes fall on you, clenching around nothing as Rhysand speaks up once more, desire hanging over every word.

“Can't leave him like that, can we?”

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