eclipsed nova (UTM Feysand)

15

A/N: Category 5 emotional damage

"Distract me," I breathed out. The corner of Rhys's mouth tipped upwards in his familiarly seductive smirk, and heat swirled low in my belly. He set my skin and senses on fire in a way I'd never experienced before.

I didn't want to think about what was happening to Tamlin wherever Amarantha had taken him. I didn't want to think about the blood curse trapping us all underground. I certainly didn't want to think about the still-healing wounds on my body and how Tamlin hadn't cared if he was hurting me when he pushed his whole lumbering body weight on top of me. I didn't want to think about anything.

All I wanted was to feel Rhysand everywhere. I wanted to feel his hands on my body and his mouth hot on my skin. I didn't even care that it was wrong. I wanted out of my own head so desperately that I'd take distraction in whatever form it came in.

"It would be my pleasure, Feyre darling," Rhys purred. He wrapped his arms around my middle and lifted me, my legs instinctually wrapping around his waist and arms around his neck. He looked at me like I was a treat being dangled in front of him.

He walked us down the increasingly familiar hallway to the bedroom we'd grown to somewhat share, easing the door open and setting me on my feet as the door clicked shut behind us. I watched as he walked over and grabbed another whiskey bottle from his seemingly bottomless supply.

An itch in my brain wondered how much he was really drinking. The caretaking instincts inside my chest wanted to stop him and talk about it, but I shoved those urges as deep down as they could go. He was not my responsibility. If he wanted to drink himself into a stupor, who was I to judge?

He took a stiff swig and sat the bottle on the table, eyes watching me like a predator stalking its prey. My heart thrummed under my skin, my blood rushing in anticipation of what his touch might feel like.

"What kind of distraction are you after, love?" Rhys asked, holding the bottle by its neck out to me in an offering. I wrapped my fingers around the cool glass, bracing myself and taking as big of a sip as I could muster, grimacing at the taste, but loving the burn that traced its way down my esophagus and into my stomach. I could see how he'd grow reliant on such relief. Especially after being down here for as long as he had been.

"Anything to make me forget every single moment after I entered this hellish place," I chuckled. His eyes flicked down, and he took another drink from the bottle, dulling his own senses. "I wish I'd never have been foolish enough to end up here. This place is an echo chamber of horrors with no reprieve."

He looked back to me and chose to not give that a reply. He paused for a brief moment and then pounced, his hands knotting in my hair and bringing my lips crashing against his. I hummed against his mouth as he held my head in place, tipping my head back to open my mouth to him as he traced my mouth with his tongue. I moaned and he gripped my hair harder, sighing into my touch. I held his arms as he made love to my mouth with his own.

He walked me backwards slowly, never stopping his kiss, my legs hitting the foot of his bed and buckling my knees, collapsing me back onto his bed. I scooted backwards until my back was against the pillows. He watched with a satisfied smirk before climbing over me, settling his hips in the cradle between my own.

He wasted no time attaching his mouth back to mine. He consumed my senses. All I could smell was the citrus and musk smell of him, tasting him in my mouth and breathing him in like air. His hand gripped my throat lightly, using his thumb to hold my head exactly as he wanted it. I was dying for more, needing him everywhere he'd fit.

"You look so good with my hands around your neck," he groaned, tightening his grip. My eyes nearly rolled back into my skull as he licked the roof of my mouth, rolling his hips against mine. He felt so good.