Gwyn is Ready to Have More from Azriel
I’m trash for them, okay? And I will simply not apologise for it. Can we all agree that their ship name is Gywnriel?
For months now, all that had been between them were tentative touches, kisses that would end before they could become too heated. Gwyn appreciated it deeply. The time Azriel had given to her, the steps they had taken together took her to places she thought she’d never reach. She still remembered the way she shook when he first held her hands, and now she was bedazzled with daily reminders of his feelings for her.
She smiled at him. He was seated next to Cassian, the two males shirtless and sprawled on the floor after training discussing how they might seduce Mor into taking on her own class of novices. They would’ve asked Rhys or Feyre, but between all their ruling duties, Feyre’s art classes and little Nyx, they barely had time to breath.
Az saw her look and smiled back, the shadows clinging to his hands disappearing as he looked at her. It made her cheeks go red to see it, and she couldn’t help but gaze down at his beautiful abdomen, the powerful muscles nothing short of wondrous. Being near him, and having him want her, made her feel powerful too. But the age-old fear always crept in before things went too far.
“Cassian and I are heading into Velaris for lunch, would you like to join?” Nesta asked her, her eyes glinting as she looked at Gwyn and knew exactly what she was thinking. “Az will likely come, and he’ll fly you down.”
“Thank you, but I’ll let you and Cassian enjoy yourselves.” Gwyn touched the pendent at her throat, the stained glass hidden beneath her leathers. “Are we still on for tomorrow?”
“Of course. Morrigan will get Emerie in the afternoon, and Cassian is making himself scarce.”
“He doesn’t need to do that!” Gwyn didn’t want him thinking he couldn’t spend time with them when they all stayed together at the House. Gwyn trusted Cassian as much as she could any man, and loved that her dearest friend had found a male who loved and cared for her so very much. Seeing them together is what gave her the courage to approach Azriel after months of shy glances and quiet conversations.
“He wants to give us our privacy. He’ll have dinner with us, and then I think he plans on stealing Nyx.” Nesta smiled at the thought of her mate and a baby, and Gwyn couldn’t blame her. There was just something about a deadly warrior caring for something so vulnerable that set her evolutionary instincts on fire.
Before Gwyn had the chance to reply, the man of the hour approached them, holding out a hand to both of them to help them up. They stood, Nesta stepping into him and resting her chin on his chest, peering up at him with unbridled admiration.
Cassian said his goodbye to Gwyn, pressing a featherlight kiss to her cheek in farewell. She didn’t blush, used to it by now. One of the things she liked most was little kisses to her cheeks and forehead, the main perpetrators of the act being Emerie and Nesta. The kisses didn’t speak of the violence she’d endured, but rather of how much her friends loved her. Friendship was an intimacy she craved outside of anything else, and she’d nearly cried the first time Nesta had kissed the top of her head, her friend hugging her after a particularly bad scalding in the library.
Nesta and Cassian left, leaving Gwyn alone with Azriel. He grinned at her the moment they had peace. He walked over, his steps hurried as if he couldn’t wait to be near her. He placed his lovely hands on her cheeks and pressed their foreheads together.
“A veritable Valkyrie,” he said.
“You give me too much praise.”
“I could never say enough kind things about you.”
She kissed the tip of his nose, happy to be in his arms.
Gwyn laid alone in her room, the single bed not big enough for all that she was feeling. She had spent nearly her entire lunch break kissing Azriel, but it had gone no further. But she’d wanted more. Needed more. She couldn’t stop thinking of the way his lips had touched her neck, or how his hands were so steady on her waist. She was half tempted to beg him to clutch her harder, to grab her in other more sensitive areas, but she didn’t know how to ask. Az was respectful to a fault. Well, no, not a fault, she loved how patient and gentle he was with her. But it meant he would never ask for more, or take more, fearful that he might spook her.
She squeezed her thighs at the thought of him, her hand idly running up and down her stomach. There had been a few times, in her rare moments of privacy, that she had taken Nesta’s advice and explored herself before having another touch her. She had scarcely in her youth, but she’d been a fumbling teen who didn’t understand what to touch to make it feel good.
As always, her thoughts drifted to him, and as she inched up her dress…
The door opened, the two other acolytes she bunked with going to bed early. Gwyn managed to snatch her hand away, but it was painfully obvious what she was about to do.
She rolled to her side and tried to suppress a groan, her fellow acolytes giggling under their breath.
Wanting to clear her head, she got up and feigned going to the bathroom, instead going into the bowels of the library. Most people were still at dinner, and she made a wide berth from the hallways that led to their dining hall. She wasn’t sure where to go. She could keep studying, although it wasn’t an appealing thought, or maybe she could go to the heart of the House and let it sneak her treats and tea.
Instead, she found herself walking until she was in the training ring. She hadn’t bothered putting shoes on. She loved the way the cool stone felt beneath her feet – like it was centring her. She would have been content to stay here forever, pitch a tent and claim this spot as hers. This was the spot she found her sisters, Nesta and Emerie. This is where she became strong, where she started tackling the demons that haunted her at night. This is where the elusive man that saved her that fateful day at the temple became a friend, and then more. Yes, she could have stayed here forever with the breeze caressing her face and the stars winking in greeting.
She heard a creak to the left and turned, worrying an acolyte might have followed her out. Instead, she saw the usually locked entry to the House open, warm and welcoming light spilling from its threshold. One to take a hint, she walked inside. She couldn’t hear Nesta or Cassian, but they had long put silencing wards on each room. She looked around the entryway, and another door opened to her left, leading her down the grand staircase and into a hallway. Once again, all the doors were shut, but as her feet touched the landing one opened, Gwyn knowing it to be the study. Going where the House was prompting her, she caught Azriel curiously staring at the door, trying to make it shut when it wouldn’t budge.
“I don’t think you’ll have much luck. It seems the House wanted me here.”
She revelled in his small gilt of surprise, an honour that he let his composure down enough around her for her to see any sort of emotion.
“Gwyn, what are you doing here?” His tone, not accusatory in the slightest, sent a shock through her stomach.
He looked… different in the dark. Of course she’d seen him in the night, whether it be in the city or over a meal with Cassian and Nesta, but never alone in a room lit only by scattered candles. His beauty was different like this, his face a marble sculpture carved by the most brilliant artists, his hair silken black, his eyes the night sky between the spirits on Starfall.
“Is this your study?” She ignored his question, entering the room. The door closed behind her, and she felt a sudden absence in the room, as if the House had given them some privacy.
“It is, I forbade Nesta and Cassian from coming in here a year ago. I didn’t want them tarnishing my stuff,” he laughed.
She swallowed hard, her hands clasped in front of her.
He looked at her thoughtfully. “Are you okay?”
She paused before she answered, not quite knowing what to say. It’s not like she could go oh, Azriel, don’t mind me, I just think my horniness was so palpable the House wrapped you as a gift and planted you in my lap.
Instead, she took a step forward, close enough to place her hands on his chest.
“I’ve been having thoughts,” she murmured, not looking him in the eyes. His hands came to rest over hers, and she was embarrassed at the fluttering in them he must feel.
“What kind of thoughts?”
Her breath shuddered. She pressed her face into the space between their hands, not able to bear the look on his face. “We’ve been taking things so slowly, and I’m so grateful that the little I’ve been able to offer you has been enough.”
“Gwyn.” His voice trembled. “Whatever you can give, whether it’s an ounce or nothing, I would happily take.”
“But what if I wanted to take?” One of her hands snaked around his neck. “What if I wasn’t ready for everything, but couldn’t get the thought of you touching me out of my head?”
It was his turn to shudder, but he didn’t move an inch. He just let her explain. She pressed herself into him harder, her face reddening when she felt what her words were doing to him. She dared peek down, his arousal present and obvious. It made her mouth water.
“Whatever you want, you can have. Just tell me.” He hands left hers, moving until they were on her waist and he could draw her nearer again. When she was close enough, his index finger landed on her chin, titling her head until he could look into her eyes. She saw fire in them, practically glowing with want. She knew hers would look the same.
“What do you want, Gwyn?”
“I want you to take your shirt off.”
And it was done. He didn’t hesitate to do as she asked and didn’t speak as she gingerly ran her fingers up and down his bare chest, letting her feel and press. He was a sight to behold – years of training crafting him into something magnificent. His mind, his body-
She kissed him, letting her hands wander to their desire. She kissed his mouth, his neck, and then steeled herself up to kissing the muscled chest she’d admired for so long. All the while, he ran his hands down her back and up to cup her head, his hands tangling in her hair.
“What do you want, Gwyn?”
“I want to sit on that desk as you kiss me. I want the earth-shattering kisses I read about in books. I don’t want you to hold back. I want to know how everyone else feels.”
He nodded, and before she had a chance to say anything else, his hands were on her thighs and he was lifting her. She gasped as he wrapped her legs around his waist, their kiss not breaking as he used one hand to wipe away the paper and knives that littered his workspace. He sat her on his desk, but she tightened her legs around him, wanting him to know she didn’t plan on letting go anytime soon.
Her mouth opened for him, and she groaned as his tongue swept in, unhindered by fear. By the Cauldron, she couldn’t believe how much he had been holding back if this was how he kissed her uninhibited. One hand was on her thigh, the other around her waist to keep them close. So close, she dared to move her hips, just a bit, just to see what it would be like to grind against him. He groaned, his lips moving away from her to savour the feeling of her clothed pussy against his concealed length.
He kissed her again, his passion palpable as he held her, and Gwyn thought she could never go back to before. How could she tolerate the sweet, closed mouth presses of his lips when she could have this? When she could have his mouth working hers so hard she could feel herself start to drip?
She ground her hips again, desperate for the friction.
Azriel pulled back, hip lips swollen and his hair in a mess from where she had unconsciously dragged her fingers through it.
“What do you want, Gwyn?”
Her already racing heart faltered. How far did she want to go? She certainly wasn’t ready for sex, but she thought she might die if she didn’t have more of him. She glanced down between them, swallowing hard when she realised truly what she wanted. Knew that the dreams she had in her mind when her hand was between her legs could be a reality if she just asked.
“I want – I want your mouth on me.”
He stood up straight, her shaking legs barely holding on.
“Do you want me to taste you, Gwyn?” he asked.
“I need you to tell me. I need to know you want this.”
“Yes, yes Azriel. Taste me. Devour me.”
He smirked, and he started to lift her dress.
A jolt went through her, a change in mood he felt instantly. He stopped and stepped back, his hands going to behind his back.
Her eyes widened; she didn’t want him to stop – didn’t mean to make him stop.
“You will lick me until I cry your name so loud the people of Velaris can hear me. But my dress stays on,” she ordered breathlessly.
His smile was serpentine, and she felt it like a pinch to the bundle of nerves he would soon head for.
He guided her so she was leaning back, and she yelped as he pulled her hips so she was balanced on the edge of the desk. He ran his hands up her dress, up her legs, as he knelt before her like a knight bowing to his queen. Her dress, which would stay on but had ridden up, bunched at her thighs, giving Azriel ample time to explore.
She watched as he peppered kisses to her calves, her knees and then the soft skin of her inner thighs. Her breathing was hitched, and when Az lifted her legs so that they were over his shoulders she could have ascended.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he whispered, looking up at her.
Those eyes alone had her feeling a way she’s never experienced. She nodded, whispered her yes.
“If you want to stop, at any time, just tell me. Or kick me. Anything you want. But don’t do something you’re uncomfortable with just because I’m here.” He smoothed over her thighs and pressed a kiss to her wet panties, giving her a tease of what was to come. “Do you want this?”
“Then you’ll have it.”
He pulled her panties aside and made a wide swipe up her centre, leaving her gasping. His tongue was relentless, but so perfect on her. He had her moaning his name in seconds, and he returned them like the act of pleasuring her was enough for him to find his own. One of her hands stayed in his hair, pulling it with a ferocity that might have pained him, but when she tried to take it away, he snatched at her hand, growling that she can pull it all she wanted. Her other hand went to her breast, feeling like she had to touch the nipples now peeking through her thin dress. Her legs shook in time to his tongue flicking against her clit, and it made a deep ache built between her legs. She moved her hips, unable to stop herself from grinding against his tongue.
His rhythm was better than a royal orchestra – her moans a melody she didn’t think herself capable of. As he continued to feast, the deep ache spread through her stomach and down to her toes, and with one final press of his delicious mouth she screamed his name, gripped onto the desk for support as her back arched and toes curled. His tongue rode her through the orgasm, and it wasn’t until she was whimpering his name that he stopped.
He gently slid her legs off his shoulders. They tremored, the limbs limp jelly in his hands. He hummed in satisfaction, rising to his feet so he could brush the hair from her face. A bead of sweat ran down her cheek, and he leaned forward to kiss it away.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, voice low. He didn’t move away from her, his lips brushing her cheek as he spoke.
“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to walk back to my room.”
Azriel laughed softly, a hoisted her up so he was carrying her like a bride.
“You can stay here.”
“In a separate room from me.”
She loved that he knew what she would say before the words even had a chance to form. She may have let him do holy things to her, but she wasn’t ready to share his bed – even if there wasn’t touching involved.
As he carried her, she stared at his beautiful face, awestruck that she might’ve had even just the smallest part of him.
“Thank you, Az.”
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