She was still unable to sleep an hour later, her mind replaying their kiss over and over again, her body restless as the need for his touch was spreading across her. She could still feel the way his fingers had touched her skin, she could smell the flavor of tea from his lips on hers, and she wanted more. But it was unreasonable to feel this kind of need for him. Not when they were involved in something so much bigger than themselves, not when he'd been warned to stay away from her or risk his entire case. She turned under her sheets, the feeling of the fabric nearly too much against her bare legs. She closed her eyes, trying to stop herself from imagining it was his hands brushing against her skin, but it was no use. She kept picturing his arms around her waist, she kept fantasizing about how his lips would feel on her neck.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore, she needed to think about something else, anything other than him. She got up, put on a pair of shorts and a tank top, and a second later she was walking in the hallway, and was about to go down to the kitchen when she saw his bedroom door open and Rhys slip out without a noise. He closed the door and turned, but stopped when he saw her. She took him in, wearing an old t-shirt and loose sweatpants, his hair ruffled. She felt herself blush immediately at what the sight of him did to her, and looked away from him.

"I was just going to make some tea."

"Yeah, me too."

And yet neither of them moved, only a few feet separating them, and Feyre knew that if she moved now, it would be towards him, and she wouldn't stop herself.

She didn't know how long they stayed like this, maybe a few minutes, maybe just a second. But finally, Rhysand cleared his throat and spoke.

"Do you want me to bring you a mug?"

"We can just go together." She wasn't so certain of her strength at that moment, but he nodded, so she started to go down the stairs, every inch of her body aware of his presence right behind her.

They reached the kitchen, and she went to fill the kettle with water while he grabbed two mugs from the cupboard and started preparing the tea. For a minute, she felt the tension lift between them, the familiarity of their little routine enough to calm herself down.

But once the mugs were ready and they were just waiting for the water to boil, tension rose again. And then there was only silence, heavy, full of untold truths and quiet feelings. She was staring at the kettle, forcing herself to ignore him, for fear of what would happen if she stopped.

But then he started talking, and his voice was no more than a whisper.

"I can't let anything compromise what we're working for, Feyre."

"I know."

"I gave up so much of myself for this job."

"I know, Rhys." Because she did. She could still feel him crying against her shoulder, holding on to her like his life depended on it, all those weeks ago on the terrace, when he'd told her about what he'd had to do for his cover. She knew what he had given up to get to where they were now. And she knew why he couldn't let her come in between him and his goal.

"It's what I keep telling myself anyway." She felt his hand rest gently on her shoulder, a silent plea that she answered warily, turning to face him. "Feyre, when I look at you, I forget about all of this."

"What do you mean?" She asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"I mean…" he looked away for a second, as if lost in thought, before taking a deep breath and turning back to her. "I mean that I know I shouldn't feel the way I do. And I know that it's irresponsible, and reckless, and I should be doing everything I can to ignore the way I feel about you. But the truth is," the hand on her shoulder moved until his fingers were stroking the back of her neck, "I don't want to ignore it. I'm in love with you, Feyre. And I'm tired of trying to act like it's not true, because it is, and -"

She cut him off with a kiss, unable to stop herself at his words. She felt his free arm go around her waist to pull her to him, keeping her against him even as they broke apart. She looked into his eyes, and said:

"I love you too."

She was not prepared for the way saying those words out loud made her feel, a euphoric feeling of joy taking over her mind as Rhys grinned at her. She could have stayed that way for an eternity, just looking into his eyes as he smiled. But he had other ideas in mind, and she wasn't going to complain.

He captured her lips once more, his tongue brushing against her lips eagerly. She opened her mouth in response, letting him in as she plunged both hands into his hair, relishing in the sound that escaped his lips as she grazed his scalp. He pushed her back and then she was bumping against the kitchen counter, smiling as his hands moved on her body. A second later, he was lifting her on top of the cold marble. And then he was standing between her legs, both his hands trailing burning paths on the bare skin of her thighs. She let her hands slip down to his chest, finding it difficult to focus when he started nibbling the lobe of her ear. A startled laugh escaped her, and his lips let go of her body.

"Is this too much?" He breathed against her ear, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine.

"It's not enough," she grinned at him and grabbed his t-shirt, eagerly pulling it up, until he took a step back to pass it over his head and toss it on the floor. She was leaning in to kiss him again when her eyes landed on his chest, and she backed away slightly to look at it. The tattoos she'd spotted a few times peeking out of his clothes were much larger than what she'd imagined, covering the entire upper half of his torso, intricate patterns intertwining with each other with seemingly no end. She let her hands run slowly along the lines, fascinated by the designs.

"They're beautiful," she whispered.

"Thanks," Rhys whispered against her lips. "But if you don't mind, I had other stuff in mind than talking about my tattoos," he added, and she laughed out loud.

"Oh really?" He nodded with a smirk, "and what did you have in mind?"

He answered by letting one of his hands run on the inside of her thighs until he was sliding under her shorts, his fingers grazing against her core. She gasped at the sensation, her head falling on his shoulder. He pushed her underwear aside and whispered in her ear:

"Something along those lines."

She clung to him as he moved between her legs, unable to restrain from moaning when he rubbed his thumb against her, and finally plunged a finger inside her. Feyre was too lost in his touch to care about trying to stay quiet. He kept moving inside her relentlessly, adjusting his strokes according to her reactions, and soon she found herself lost in her own pleasure, hanging at the edge of a precipice. And he must have sensed she was close, because he increased the pace until she cried out, letting the waves of her climax wash over her.

Rhys slowly pulled his fingers back, and his arms wrapped around her as she tried to catch her breath. She turned her head to find him looking at her, laughter and lust melting together in his expression. Immediately, desire grew again inside her, and she moved closer until she felt him hard between her legs. She felt him grind against her slowly, and they both moaned at the sensation. She looped her arms around his neck and said:

"Let's go to my bedroom."

He smiled and answered: "I have condoms in mine."

She laughed. "Well then, let's go to yours!"

She was about to jump down when he slid his hands behind her knees, and before she knew it, he was lifting her off the counter. She laughed and locked her legs around him to keep her balance. They stumbled across the house messily, Feyre kissing his jawline and neck while Rhys tried to focus on climbing the stairs. Finally, they reached his bedroom and he sat down on the bed, Feyre straddling him. The skin of her legs was burning under his touch, and she started grinding against him. In response, he moaned and sucked on her lip, his hands sliding under her tank top to tease her back.

At this touch, she stopped kissing him and, her breathing heavy and her heart restless, moved back to look him in the eyes as she gripped the side of her tank top and slid it over her head, revealing her naked body underneath. Rhys' hands still on her bare back, he looked at her fully, with a small smile on his lips, before he started kissing her again, on her mouth, her jaw, the crook of her neck. His hands soon joined his mouth on her, exploring her breasts, and Feyre let herself be taken away by his kisses and caresses, her own hands roaming on his back, through his hair, over his chest.

She finally found her way into his pants, grabbing him fully in her hand. She smiled as she heard him groan against her neck, and fell into a slow rhythm, delighted by the way his brow furrowed under her touch, low moans leaving his lips under her touch. She started to increase her pace, but one of his hands came down to stop her.

When she looked up, his eyes were open, dark with a desire that made her insides burn.

"Feyre, this is amazing," she smiled at his words, "but if you keep going, I'm not going to last very long."

She laughed a little and let go of him. She leaned forward to kiss him, and suddenly he was lifting her again, laying her down on the bed. He kneeled in front of her and grabbed her shorts and underwear, pulling them down until she found herself fully naked. She saw his eyes roam all over her body as he was taking off the remaining remainder of his clothes, and then he was as naked as she was, and she took him in, in all his beauty. She looked down and her desire for him only grew greater.

She saw his head disappear between her legs, and felt his lips on her thighs. But for all that she wanted this, she wanted something else even more. So she grabbed the sides of his face and made him look at him.

"Not now. Right now, I want you inside me."

The smile on his face turned into a grin at her words.

"Okay."

He moved away from her to grab a condom from the nightstand, and she saw that his tattoos continued on his back too.

And then he was on top of her again, and slowly sliding inside her. She moaned at the feeling, and looking at his face, she was glad to see that Rhys was enjoying this as much as she was. She let her hands caress his body as he moved on top of her, losing herself in the sensations of Rhys moving with her. She felt a new orgasm building, stronger than the first one, guided by Rhys' moving in her, by the sound of his breathing against the skin of her neck. And when she felt him still on top of her, his fingers digging into her legs as he came, she let herself be taken over once more.

They didn't move for quite some time after that, Rhys' forehead leaning against hers as they both tried to catch their breath. After a while, she opened her eyes to find him looking at her, his eyes full of… love. She lifted a hand to brush his hair away from his forehead, and smiled.

He moved away from her after a moment, sitting down to take off the condom, and soon he was lying down beside her, and they stayed silent for a moment before Feyre turned on her side to look at him.

"We can't go back, now."

"No, we can't." He turned towards her, "do you want to go back?"

She shook her head and scooted closer, letting one of his arms encircle her waist. She wanted to talk more, to spend the night talking with him and kissing him, and hearing him say those wonderful words over and over. But she could feel her eyes closing with exhaustion. He must have seen it, because he pulled her a little closer to him and let his lips touch her forehead in a small kiss.

"Sleep well, Feyre."

She mumbled a reply that probably involved the words "love you," and didn't hear if he answered before she was fast asleep against him.