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As High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand had accepted the fact that dull council meetings were inevitable. The everyday affairs of running a territory needed his constant vigilance to make sure nothing went amuck. Normally, he didn’t mind these meetings too much – he loved the Night Court and its crown jewel, Velaris; and not a day went by when he wasn’t grateful that he was able to even participate in these meetings as High Lord again, thanks to his beautiful mate defeating Amarantha’s curse from Under the Mountain. No detail was too small: the need to repair the roads on certain streets, the Velaris Teachers’ Union’s request for higher wages, the need to replace the worn books in the public libraries, etc. All these details were never beneath Rhysand’s attention.
Today, however, Rhysand found himself diverted otherwise during the regularly scheduled meetings. As his financial advisor droned on about budgets, he reflected on the tender moment he shared with his newborn son, Nyx, just this morning. He recalled the way Nyx had barely made a sound as he’d gently lifted him from the crib next to his and Feyre’s bed and held him close to his heart – the way Nyx’s fingers tried grabbing around his finger as he marveled at how tiny the baby’s hand was compared to his own. Feyre hadn’t awakened, yet; she’d still been sleeping peacefully in the bed. Only the Mother witnessed the silent tears of gratitude that flowed in that moment as Rhysand prayed a silent “thank you” and admitted that all the pain of the past century had been worth it.
Rhysand smiled to himself as he felt a gentle caress against his mental shields, as if his thoughts had summoned her.
“Yes, Feyre darling?”
“How’s the meeting going? Are you going to be stopping by the house for lunch?” Feyre asked.
“Oh, it’s as dull as ever. Nothing much going on. Once the meeting’s over, I’ll swing by the house to eat. I’ve been considering how much longer I should wait before it would be socially acceptable enough for me to draw things to an end. Cassian’s practically vibrating in his seat with sheer boredom.”
A soft chuckle tinged with mischief echoed in his mind. He wondered what was so funny, but before he could ask, he startled at a faint tingling sensation as warmth began to spread throughout his crotch. A sensation not unlike the pressure of a hand cupping him put Rhysand on high alert.
“Feyre?”
A pause – and then, “We can’t have you bored, now, can we?”
He felt her slip to the back of his mind – an indication she wasn’t in the talking mood anymore – and resigned himself to returning his attention to what was now Cassian’s turn to report on affairs in the Illyrian villages. The warmth on his crotch was not unpleasant; in fact, it was fairly easy to ignore, so Rhysand didn’t think much more of it.
The next few minutes dragged on and his mind wandered to various topics unrelated to the meeting he was sitting in. He could still feel Feyre’s presence in his mind, perhaps listening in on the updates from the council. It was nice having her there, since they both had been busy with their duties ruling the Night Court as well as adjusting to being new parents to Nyx. Rhysand tried to think of the last time he and Feyre had spent more than a few minutes with just the two of them and found he couldn’t remember. He felt his cock twitch thinking about being inside his mate again after so long.
He jolted as a warm, sucking sensation surrounded his cock suddenly. Cassian glanced his way, an eyebrow raised in question. Rhysand shook his head a fraction to reassure his brother he was all right. Again, a mischievous chuckle caresses his mind.
“Feyre, darling?”
She purred, “Just livening things up. I can tell you’re bored. And this is incentive to make you come home sooner. I miss you.”
He covered a groan by clearing his throat, biting the inside of his cheek to keep quiet and crossing his legs as the sucking sensation intensified. A phantom tongue licked along his cock, and he marveled at how his mate was torturing him so. They often linked mentally several times throughout the day with a general check-in or the occasional mental image to cheer each other up. Any sexual teasing was a naughty phrase here and there, or a visualization of what one desired for the other. Actual phantom sensations through a mere mental link was entirely new, and Rhysand would be absolutely fucking proud of how powerful his mate was if he wasn’t so focused on keeping his cool in front of his council members. Cassian would never let him live it down if he caught on to what was happening.
“As nice as this feels—mmm – now’s really not the time, darling,” Rhysand chided half-heartedly.
Phantom fingers now caressed his balls to accompany the warm suckling sensation on the head of his cock, the odd finger slipping even further down to press on his taint to stimulate his prostate externally. Rhysand stifled a growl – Feyre knew how sensitive he was there, and now she was just playing dirty! He’d given up any effort of paying attention to the meeting at this point; all focus agonized toward keeping a straight face and remaining quiet so as not to raise any suspicion from the others in the room.
“I’ve missed you, y’know. We’ve been so busy, I can’t remember the last time we had fun with just the two of us. Why don’t you take a break for a few days? I can feel how tense and stressed out you are right now,” Feyre said.
It took a minute for Rhysand to reply, so focused was he on the finger that was now prodding at his rim at odd intervals as it continued to stroke his taint.
“Uh-huh, I’ve been busy,” he bit his lip, “but there’s been a lot of work to do. I need to catch up on a few more things first – unh – before I can think about taking some time off—godsdammit, Feyre! Keep doing that, please!”
Rhysand’s hips were practically shaking to not thrust into the air at the mental deepthroating his mate was now subjecting him to. His hands went white from his death grip on the chair arm. Cassian’s eyes darted his direction when a small creaking sound echoed woodenly in the room. The knowing glint in the general’s eyes informed Rhysand he hadn’t been as discreet as he’d thought. Great… He could anticipate being harassed with excessive teasing from his brother in the near future.
Overwhelmed by Feyre’s mental torture (but how excruciatingly blissful it was!), Rhysand decided the meeting had been dragged out long enough and it was time for him to make his exit. Lifting a hand to halt the current speaker (he was too focused right now on not coming in the next few seconds to note which council member they were), he announced the meeting was over and they would reconvene the same time next week. Sensing their High Lord was not in the mood for anymore conversation, the council members quickly dispersed to return to their duties for the day. Cassian, of course, dawdled a little longer – just to be an ass – and left with a quiet “try not to cause another earthquake, brother” before he left the room as well.
Rhysand sat still for a few more minutes, overcome with ecstasy as Feyre doubled down on her efforts to make him lose control. His head leaned back against his chair with legs uncrossed and spread wide, and he could no longer resist his hips from making little thrusts into the air. Panting, his eyes squeezed shut as he begged his mate to have mercy on him.
“Come for me, Rhys, want you to feel good, baby… Relax and let go for me,” Feyre encouraged breathily.
“Fuck, Feyre! Oh, that feels amazing! Keep sucking me like that! Shit, your finger feels good, too!”
By now, a finger was fucking his hole rhythmically in sync with the suction on his dick. Rhysand could feel his balls tightening and his hole clenching around the phantom finger inside him as an intense wave of pleasure slammed through him; and his hips arched off the chair as he came, a moan straining from his lips.
“FEYRE!”
Almost a minute passed before Feyre eased up on her ministrations, allowing Rhysand to calm down from one of the most intense orgasms he’d had in recent memory. His body slumped back down in his chair as he slowed his breathing and reveled in how loose and relaxed his body had become. He still sensed Feyre in his mind, the both of them basking in the rare moment of quiet.
Pretty soon, however, Feyre spoke up.
“Can you come home now? I’m not done with you, yet.”
Despite having just come, Rhysand felt his dick twitch in interest. He supposed he was overdue for a few days’ rest. He’d send a message to the council informing them to not bother him until their next meeting once he got back home.
Gathering his shadows around him, Rhysand chuckled darkly.
“On my way.”