!NSFW chapter!

Sooooo. We kind of left things at a… critical moment last week! So yeah, you probably guessed it, this is kind of a smutty chapter ^^ I'm serious, this chapter has zero plot, only sexy times hahaha it's a bit different than the last NSFW one I wrote, so I hope you'll like this sort of smut!

Also, I forgot to add this to my notes last week: if you follow me on Tumblr, you might have seen the post where I said that I have a final countdown on this fic! It's going to be a total of 25 chapters + 1 epilogue, so we're slowly nearing the end. I'm not sure I'll publish next week, I'm going to try to, but with the holidays and my work, I don't know if I'll find the time, so the next update might be a bit late, I'm sorry ^^'

I do have another Feysand project in mind for after this fic is over, much more… angsty, and dark, and slowburn! I don't have a release date yet, I'm still working out the plot, but I'm hoping to start publishing not too long after the end of this fic.

Anyway, enjoy this plotless chapter, and thanks for commenting and all! :)

"I am going to eat you alive."

And from the look he gave her, he was ready to do it. She grinned at him and advanced slowly towards the bed, aware of what every movement of her body looked like with the ensemble on.

When she'd tried it out at the shop, she'd been so nervous, noticing every detail of her body that wasn't perfect, fearing he might laugh at seeing her wear something like that. But the way his eyes were devouring her, moving around her body as if he couldn't get enough of her in that flimsy outfit, she knew he wasn't going to laugh at her. He'd sat up on the side of the bed when he'd seen her, and she stopped moving once she was standing between his legs. He once again looked at her from head to toe, and whispered: "You're so sexy."

She waited for heat to overtake her cheeks, waited for the urge to cover herself up. But she was sexy. And she was beautiful. She didn't have a reason to hide from him when he looked at her that way.

He raised his hands and his fingers grazed against her thighs, her waist. He tugged on her waist and advanced his head to kiss her, but she resisted and put a finger on his lips.

"Not that fast, mister." He frowned and she only smiled at him. "I didn't say you could touch me."

"I thought you were my birthday present," he answered in an almost offended voice, but his lips twitched up.

"Oh I am. But I get to decide when you can have me. And you're well too overdressed yet."

And she gently placed her hands on his chest, grabbed the sides of the jacket he was wearing, and took it off him. She came back to his chest and, fixating her eyes to his, she took out his vest button by button, before discarding it on top of the jacket. She then tugged on his tie, and took her time sliding it over his head, plunging her hands onto his hair and massaging him. He closed his eyes and moaned under her touch, forcing her to restrain a grin. She waited for him to open his eyes again, before starting to run her fingers down his body and gripping the buckle of his belt in a sharp movement. He gasped and bit his lip, his hand tightening on her waist, but she shook her head. Not yet. The belt fell on the floor with a loud noise that broke a bit of the tension building between them, and Feyre let out a chuckle.

"You're killing me, Feyre," Rhys whispered, and he sounded as if every word was a struggle, as if restraining himself from jumping on her was the hardest thing he'd ever done.

"I know. Don't you like it?"

"I love it." His mouth opened again as if he was about to add something else, but he didn't say anything, and she started to unbutton his shirt, the tension rising again when she passed her hands across his beautiful tattooed skin to get the shirt off.

Once he was half-naked on the bed, she kneeled in front of him and he smiled, letting her take off his pants and underpants. She locked her eyes to his, and took him into her mouth. He groaned but didn't look away from her, his breathing getting faster and more erratic as time went on to. Feyre herself couldn't contain a moan when he gripped her hair and started to softly guide her movements. She was burning, and she clenched her legs together to try and restrain from touching herself. He let her go on for a long while before she heard him speak.

"Feyre," she didn't acknowledge him. "Feyre you need to stop." But he didn't sound like he wanted her to stop. And she didn't really want to.

"Feyre," he repeated, gently guiding her away from him and forcing her to look at him, "What you're doing is absolutely amazing," she smiled, "but I don't want to finish like that. I want to touch you too tonight." He must have seen her hesitate because he raised an eyebrow and said "I recall mention of me taking off your marvelous little outfit."

She laughed at his argument, got up and stood in front of him, suddenly extremely self-conscious. But he grabbed her and said "Come here," sitting her on his lap. She could feel every inch of him under her, and instinctively started grinding against him.

"You mischievous woman," he said before he pushed her away from him again to ease her on the bed. His hands were roaming across her belly again, and this time, she didn't tell him to stop. He kissed her belly button while his hands traveled south to caress her thighs and play with the top of her stockings.

"These are very, very tempting, I'm going to enjoy taking them off you," and then he stopped talking, and started licking his way down her belly to her thighs until he met the garter. He untied the first stocking and took it between his teeth. He proceeded to slowly, very slowly, slide the stockings down her leg, the left one, then the right one, exploring her burning skin every step of the way.

"Feyre, you are so beautiful," he repeated, and he got up from her, looking at her with a look that consumed her whole. "Feyre, I…" and he bit his lips and made her sit down, kissing her fully. "I am very glad I met you."

Her ensemble of lingerie was quick to join his suit after that. The desire became less urgent, but no less passionate, and Rhys kissed her again, sliding his hands across her back to take off her bra in a swift move. She was still burning everywhere he touched her, but the fire was slower, more intense after the words he'd said to her. Taking his face between her hands, Feyre kissed him fully, and put everything she felt into that kiss, pulling him towards her as she lay down on the bed. She could feel his body on top of hers, hovering just a few inches away, warm and strong, inviting. She slid her legs around his waist and guided him to her center. She just wanted to feel him, and the slightest graze they shared was almost enough to send her over the edge. Her hands left his face to caress his hair, his shoulders, all the way to the small of his back, where she started pushing him closer to her. His lips still toying with hers, Rhysand laughed.

"Calm down, Darling, we need something first." Without taking her eyes from his, she felt him reach for the bedside table, rip the condom wrapper open, quickly draw away from her, only to come back seconds later. She was still looking into his eyes when he entered her and started to move in rhythm with her hips, unable to look away from the deep violet she'd come to love, from the small flecks of silver that looked like tiny shooting stars. He seemed as fascinated as her, his eyes roaming her face just as his hands were grabbing her legs, pulling them higher on his back. This new angle only deepened their union, and Feyre couldn't help but scratch his back more strongly than she'd intended at first. But he moaned at that, a wonderful sound quickly followed by a chuckle as he thrust harder into her. She gasped, her legs tightening around him, determined not to let him get away from her for too long. Still, for all the pleasure she was feeling, she couldn't close her eyes. She couldn't look away from his beautiful face, contorted with pleasure and focus and affection. She started to feel her own pleasure rising inside her, and as she looked into his eyes, his last words played in her head. "I am very glad I met you." She knew what it meant. She wasn't ready to admit it, she wasn't even ready to think it, but she knew what he was telling her with this. She tore away from his lips to bring his face to her neck, and as she felt every thrust bringing her closer to her orgasm, she hung on to his back harder, letting herself be lost in the pleasure of him inside her, of his tongue brushing her neck, and his breath caressing her ear. She didn't restrain the loud moan that came out of her when their release hit them in unison.

Rhysand continued to gently thrust inside her through the last waves of her climax, and as she slowly started to relax and catch her breath, he moved his head just enough to have their eyes meet again. She could see the exhaustion in them, as well as the pure joy his own release had brought him.

Finally, with a groan, he rolled away from her to take off the condom, and then settled on the bed, on his side, facing her. He took her in his arms and started stroking her gently, closing his eyes with a contented smile. But Feyre couldn't take her eyes off his face, his eyes closed and his hands caressing her back, still hearing what he'd told her. I'm very glad I met you.

"Rhys?"

"Mmmh?"

"I'm very glad I met you, too." He opened his eyes. "And I'm glad I worked up the courage to give you my number that night."

He smiled and tightened his embrace on her.