Chapter Text
Elain threaded her slim fingers through the dark mop of hair upon Azriel’s head, her hips gyrating against his wicked, sinful mouth. His tongue lapped at her, toying and teasing her until she was trembling with need. His name passed through her parted lips in a breathy moan. “Azriel.”
He smiled against her—he always did. Elain could feel the way his mouth curled up at the corner against her sensitive slit. He fucking loved bringing her to that blissful edge, over and over, but never letting her cross the finish line until he deemed it time.
“Please, Az,” she pleaded. He’d been edging her with his mouth and fingers for what felt like years, and she was delirious with need.
Those amber eyes, blown wide with lust, peeked up at her through his dark lashes. “Would you like to come, my good girl?” he breathed, her wetness dripping off his chin.
Fucking Azriel was every girl’s wildest dream. The man knew how to pleasure a woman. He was skilled in every arsenal when it came to bedroom habits. Had touched on all of her dirtiest, kinkiest fantasies without missing a beat.
Elain had never once explored herself sexually. She never knew what she liked, what she craved until she met him. He opened her to this world of pleasure that she never wanted to leave.
And they weren’t even dating.
“Fuck, Azriel, please!” she cried out, trying to shove his head where she needed him to finish the job.
But he resisted, smirking as he climbed back up her body, leaving wet kisses along the way. “Clean me off,” he ordered, lowering his mouth until it just barely brushed against hers.
Elain’s tongue darted out, licking him from his chin to his plump lips, and as she did, he thrust into her. Slowly.
So fucking slowly, she wanted to scream.
But she didn’t stop licking him until he was clean, tugging his head down into a heated kiss. Honestly, Azriel was and likely would be the best she’d ever have. His kissing alone could bring her to the brink of an orgasm. She wasn’t kidding when she said the man knew what to do.
He hooked his arm under her leg, throwing it up onto his shoulder and splitting her open for him, hitting that glorious spot that had never been touched before him. Hips snapping into hers, he picked up his pace, chasing that impending orgasm she desperately needed from him.
“Yes, there, there! Don’t stop, Azriel. Feels so good.” Elain had no idea what she was saying, too lost in the haze of his scent, the smell of sex hanging heavily over them. “Oh god. Oh my god.”
His answering chuckle caused her to pulse around him. “You make me so fucking hard, Elain. But I’m not your God.”
Her eyes cracked open, catching that devilish grin painted on his lips. “Husband, perhaps?” she teased, not really hearing the words she was saying.
Azriel froze, his body going rigid above her.
This time, when she looked up at him, she realized her mistake. Because that wasn’t lust and desire staring back at her, it was blatant fear and apprehension.
“Elain—”
“Forget I said that.”
His breathing turned shallow, sweat beading along his temple. He swallowed once and for some reason, it made her body turn ice cold. “Elain, you know this isn’t like that, right? We’re just fuck buddies…that’s it.”
She wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never come out again. Yes, she knew that, but it didn’t stop the hurt that came with hearing him say it. “I know. It slipped out. I’m sorry.”
Azriel lowered her leg back to the mattress, eyes flicking between hers. He didn’t pull out of her, though.
She wished he would.
“You know how I feel about relationships and marriage, Elain. I told you that from the start.”
Her embarrassment bubbled into anger. “I’m well aware of that, Azriel. It was the heat of the moment. Please just forget it.”
He studied her, seeming to debate something within himself. “Do you want to stop?”
Yes. “No.” She felt conflicted, unsure of what to do with herself at the moment. Run and hide to lick her wounds. Or face this to try to salvage whatever this was. “Let’s just finish.”
Truthfully, there was nothing salvageable about this—whatever this was. She hoped that he assumed the flush of her cheeks was from the exertion and not because of her mortification. Though, she was sure he knew. He always seemed to pick up on her traits; could read her so easily.
Which was why he appeared to be hesitating. “Elain, I—”
She snapped. “Either finish or get off.” Her chest felt like it had a gaping wound, and it was entirely her fault. Azriel had been honest from the very beginning about this relationship. He had told her that he did not date, did not do the boyfriend thing, and the only thing he could offer her was the pleasure of his body.
Elain knew what she was getting into. And yet, she fell for him anyway.
Azriel stared down at her for another moment before he made his choice, slowly moving his body into hers, working to build her back up and get at least one orgasm out of her for the night after edging her forever, bringing her the cusp before leaving her hanging to come back down.
Typically, when he did that, her pleasure skyrocketed. The buildup always intensified her orgasms. Even the few he’d give her as a reward after the initial were always more potent after a night of edging.
But she already knew it was no use to her now. She might as well have sat in an ice bath for how unturned-on she was. She knew he tried his hardest to rekindle her arousal, but it was dead and gone and past now.
This left her with one option. She’d done it plenty of times with her ex-boyfriend, Graysen, but never once did she have to with Azriel.
Elain had to fake an orgasm.
When she felt him closing in on his release, she started heavily breathing, nails digging into his shoulders and back as he rubbed at her clit, trying to get her to come. “Yes, Azriel, right there,” she moaned with no feeling whatsoever. And when he came, spilling inside of her, she “did” too, clenching around his cock to even make it seem like her body was pulsing.
She honestly deserved an Oscar for that performance.
Azriel collapsed into her, face buried into her neck, but he didn’t stay there like he usually did. No, he shoved himself up and off her, ire burning in his eyes. “What the fuck was that?”
It took every ounce of restraint to not blanch at the harsh words. “What?”
That seemed to piss him off more. “You just faked it.”
Okay, maybe not an Oscar then. “No I didn’t—”
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Elain,” he snarled. “I’ve made you come enough times to know when you do. If you weren’t in the mood anymore, then you should’ve just said so, but don’t ever fucking dishonor me by faking your pleasure.”
Elain deserved his anger, she knew that, but she was too hurt and embarrassed to apologize. Instead, she pushed his chest, forcing him back farther so she could roll out of bed. She grabbed her underwear from the floor and tugged them back on, ignoring how she felt his seed sliding out between her thighs.
Just another mess for her to clean up later.
The bed groaned behind her. “Elain, stop,” he said, gripping her arm.
She tried to pull herself from his grasp, feeling the losing battle of holding back her tears. “I want to get dressed.” Her voice was so quiet, that she knew she failed in hiding the anguish from him.
Not when he carefully turned her around to face him. He’d graciously slipped a pair of boxers back on, but it still left him beautifully on display. That strong, warm, male body that she had to give up. “I’m sorry I shouted,” he told her, reaching to cup her face in his large palms. His thumbs swiped across her cheeks, collecting the droplets that had fallen. “The comment caught me by surprise and I should’ve just stopped us instead of trying to get you to finish. I edged you quite a bit tonight and I underestimated just how much that interruption affected you. I’m sorry.”
Damn him. Elain would’ve preferred his anger over this—this empathy. Because then it’d give her a reason to leave and never look back. No matter that, despite their differences in what they wanted, Elain couldn’t bear the idea of never seeing him again.
“I’m sorry too,” she breathed. “I didn’t mean to say what I did. I know that we agreed upon just sex, no strings attached. It just came out with no filter. I didn’t mean to insinuate anything.”
“I know, I know,” he cooed, tucking her into his chest. His warmth, his masculine scent washed over her. It felt like home in his arms.
It was her home.
“Come to bed with me. Let me just hold you tonight, and then tomorrow we can figure it out.” Azriel looked down at her with a face she could not resist. He knew. It was obvious he knew that this was their last night together and he wanted to hold onto as much of it as he could.
So, she plastered on a smile, kissing his chest over the whirls of ink, and agreed. Elain let him pull her back into bed, lying down on her side so he could curl himself around her, her back pressed against his front. She’d always fit so easily into the cradle of his body like they had been made for each other.
But how wrong she was.
He flicked the light off on his bedside table, plunging them into darkness. “Goodnight, El,” he murmured, kissing the skin of her shoulder.
“Goodnight, Azriel.” It was all she could say. Because Elain knew it would be the last time she got to say those words, to feel all of him pressed into all of her. As he fell asleep behind her, she listened to the sounds of his breathing, felt the heat that once brought her such comfort, and let it all go.
Elain waited until Azriel had fallen into a deep sleep, something confirmed by the slow, even breaths that blew the hair at the back of her neck before she slipped from his arms, which took some effort. He’d banded them around her waist and torso, almost as if he suspected her doing just that and trying to prevent it even in his sleep.
He grunted when she finally broke free, carefully extracting herself from the bed so as to not jostle him. Grabbing her discarded clothes from the floor, and a notepad and pen from his desk, Elain snuck into the bathroom to clean herself up and get dressed.
Her heart pounded in her chest; it ached in a way she’d never felt before. Even her awful breakup with Graysen didn’t compare to this chasm of despair in her heart—a place that Azriel had carved from his bare hands and made his home.
But she had to do this.
Honestly, Elain should’ve been more prepared for this inevitable. Since her sister’s wedding six months prior, she and Azriel had formed this physical relationship, and it had been magical. Exactly what she needed after a stressful day of classes. But this past week, she got offered an opportunity to take her pastry school studies abroad to Paris, and she had wanted to talk to Azriel about it first. Elain had been pointedly avoiding the conversation for days, but she had to give her advisor her decision by tomorrow and would be shipped out by the end of the month.
Yes, they weren’t dating, but secretly, Elain wanted to see if he’d even care to see her go. She supposed it didn’t matter now. There was nothing left to keep her here now and she knew it, no matter how hard it was to face. So, she opened up the email to her advisor on her phone and sent the agreement for the transfer.
It would be good for her. Studying in Paris was a dream. Elain just wished it didn’t come like this.
She scribbled a pathetic excuse on the notepad, tearing it off after signing her name. Sniffing back the tears that threatened, she crept back into his bedroom, returning the pad and pen to his desk and placing her cowardly way out on his bedside table. Unable to help herself, Elain ran her fingers through his hair, brushing it back from his face.
Azriel’s long arm stretched out, searching for her body. Her name tumbled from his lips, and fuck if that wasn’t the hardest thing she’d ever witnessed in her life. Not catching Graysen cheating on her, but watching the man who could not give her a future calling out for her in his sleep.
It took her entire willpower to pull her hand back, collect her shoes from the floor, and walk out of his bedroom and his life. As she slipped into the night, Elain let the gathered tears fall without restraint.
~~~~~
Azriel knew something was wrong before he was fully conscious, his mind prickling and his gut sinking that something vital had changed. His arm stretched out, searching for a warm body, and found nothing but cold sheets.
Hazel eyes snapped open, finding the other side of his bed empty. He sat up, blankets pooling around his waist. “Elain?” he called out into the silent apartment.
Nothing.
Not a damn sound but his own erratic breathing. He went to throw back his sheets when he saw it. The white piece of paper, folded once, lying on his nightstand. Azriel plucked the note up, opening it with shaky hands.
Azriel,
I want to apologize first for not having the courage to say this to your face. Last night made me realize I had been lying to myself about what I wanted out of this agreement with you for far too long. It was not just a desire for your body that I craved, it was the comfort I found in your presence. You have shown me things, things I never imagined for myself. Taught me how to express myself and my fantasies, and for that, I am incredibly grateful. I care for you, Azriel. I care deeply…and that is where the problem lies. It is beyond what we agreed upon in the beginning of our relationship and I cannot face the hurt I know will come for me when this ends. I fear I am already in too deep. You have always been honest with me, but I cannot face you and speak my truth. I’m so sorry I could not show you the courtesy you showed me. I hope you can one day forgive me for leaving and I truly hope you find the happiness you deserve.Elain
“Fuck,” he muttered, dropping the note on his bed and running his hand through his mussed-up hair. She was gone. Elain finally left him.
He had always known it would happen, that she’d realize he wasn’t worth the effort. But he never thought she’d leave because she’d felt something more for him. Azriel didn’t deserve her affection. Never deserved her time.
But now that it was gone, he never anticipated how much he craved it, needed it, wanted it. He’d been so fucked in the head before she came into his life. This beautiful, bright ray of light. She radiated hope like she was sunshine itself.
When they first met, she’d been in a relationship. Azriel should’ve known the jealousy he felt back then was because he’d met someone special. That he wanted more from her than he realized. And then when she showed up at Rhys and Feyre’s wedding rehearsal unattached and single, he couldn’t stop himself from approaching her.
She’d been so beautiful in her violet gown. Draped on her like a second skin and plunging between the soft swells of her breasts. Breasts that drove him absolutely wild. Azriel had always been an ass-man and still was, but Elain’s assets in both categories nearly brought him to his knees. The curves of her body that he wanted to map with his brutally scarred hands, his lips, and his fucking tongue.
And he did. Az memorized every single inch of her. He could tell you the number of freckles that dusted the bridge of her nose. He knew that her tits fit perfectly in his hands and that she had a tiny peony tattoo behind her left ear that neither of her sisters had knowledge of. Az knew how her breathing changed when she was close to coming, could still hear the sounds she made as she fell into oblivion. He could read when she was close, from the curling of her toes to the way her fingers would grip and grab whatever they could. Her crescent-shaped marks on his shoulders and lines down his back were some of the ways she’d leave her imprint on him.
Yeah, Az knew just about everything regarding Elain.
Yet, he couldn’t give her what she wanted. Pleasure—yes. Love, no. And for that reason alone, he had to let her go. She deserved so much more than he could offer her and he couldn’t be the reason she ended up in this pathetic excuse for a dead-end relationship.
No, Elain deserved to be freely loved. She deserved to be with someone who could openly express how he felt about her, could take her out on proper dates, and who wanted a future with her.
Azriel carried far too much baggage to give her that. He couldn’t be what she needed.
But that didn’t make it easier to free her from his clutches and heart. Swinging himself over the side of his bed, he grabbed his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found Elain’s name. He didn’t know what he’d say, but he just needed to say something. Tapping on her name, he placed the phone to his ear and waited.
It rang.
And it rang.
And it rang until her voicemail picked up.
Hey, it’s Elain. I’m probably baking, so leave me a message.
His lips turned up at her outgoing message. It was something she’d very obviously say and he couldn’t help but smile at the image of her recording it with flour on her cheek and an apron tied around her waist.
But when the beep sounded, indicating for him to leave his message. He froze, unable to form a coherent thought. It was probably the creepiest message she’d ever get, him just breathing into the receiver, and the idea of that finally spurred him to speak. “Elain,” his voice cracked, and fuck, that sounded so pathetic. “Lain, I’m sorry for last night. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that and I hate how we left things. I understand why you did what you did and I’m not angry. I deserved it…but I would like to apologize to you. In-person preferably.” He licked his dry lips. “Please call me back.”
He hung up, his gut sinking with the feeling that that would be the last time he heard her beautiful voice.
Azriel dropped his phone on his bed, slumping over and cradling his face in his palms. He fucked up, he knew that. He just didn’t know how to make it right and he prayed she’d give him a shot to at least attempt to clear the air with her. Until then, he’d just have to wait.
~~~
After a month went by with nothing from Elain, Azriel had come to the conclusion that she wanted nothing to do with him. Which was fine—she didn’t owe him a goddamn thing. But it didn’t make the wound in his chest any better.
He tried to get over her, even went to a club the previous night to pick up somebody else. But no matter the girls that approached him, or the ones he attempted to approach, he couldn’t get into it. Nothing about them engaged or excited him.
How could he even begin to find something to take his mind off her when she was the best he’d ever get? Elain had been inexperienced when he first approached her. Enough so that if he had known just how little she’d done, he probably would’ve not pursued her, in an effort to not taint her.
But what surprised him the most was that, despite how little Elain knew about sex, she was a very willing participant. So, he taught her the art of the bedroom, and fuck, did she love everything he did. He dominated her, controlled her, and pleasured her until she was screaming his name, and every single time she moaned those three syllables, his ego, and his pride, grew to dangerous levels. Because it was him, making her feel like that. It was him showing her what sex and pleasure could be.
But it was more than just that. Elain could read him so easily without even trying. His brothers couldn’t even see past the mask he wore. But she did. She saw every dark part of him and was not afraid of it.
And it was those thoughts that led him to the doorstep of her apartment. This couldn’t be the end of them. He wasn’t ready to let her go yet. Az needed to see her.
Just one last time.
Taking a steadying breath, he knocked.
Footsteps sounded on the other side of the door and his gut turned anxiously as it opened, revealing…
Not Elain.
The woman standing on the threshold smiled at him. “Hello, can I help you?”
Azriel blinked looking at the number on the door, verifying he had the correct apartment. His eyes returned to hers. “I’m sorry, I think I have the wrong apartment.” He knew he didn’t. Had been here enough times to find it with his eyes closed.
Her brows furrowed. “Who are you looking for?”
“Elain Archeron.”
Recognition flared in her dark eyes. “Ah, yeah. She used to live here. Moved out just over a few weeks ago.”
He glanced over her shoulder, seeing the moving boxes littered around the space confirming what she told him. His heart sank. “Ah, okay. Sorry for disturbing you.” Azriel’s head filled with noise; his heart sinking.
She left. She just packed up her shit and left.
His whole body went numb as he made his way out of the building and onto the street. During his brief time inside the building, the gates of heaven opened up, drowning the world in its sorrows. Or perhaps they were his. Like he had let the universe know his pain and wanted them to suffer with him. He was drenched instantly, clothes sticking to his form like a second layer of skin.
Gone. She was gone.
The pain in his chest grew until it was unbearable. So, he ran.
Azriel ran, and ran, and ran until he got ten blocks over in the suburbs and flew up the steps of his brother’s house, fist pounding on the front door.
Rhys threw open the door. “Azriel, what the fu—”
“Where is she?” he interrupted, not giving one single shit about his brother’s annoyance.
Rhysand just looked at him, his face morphing into what could only be described as pity. He fucking hated that look. If there was one thing he hated most in the world, was being looked at with pity. Whether that was from his tragic past, the scars he bore on both hands, or the feeling of worthlessness he always seemed to carry, he couldn’t stand when people looked at him like that.
“Azriel?” came Feyre’s voice from behind her husband. She stepped around Rhys, blue-gray eyes looking up at him, at the pain etched into his features. Reaching out a hand, she took his elbow, murmuring, “Come inside. I’ll get you a towel. Then we can talk.”
But he shook off her grip, asking again and growing more frantic, “Where is she?”
For a moment, she just stood there, watching him, and he thought for a second she wouldn’t answer him at all. But finally, she let out a breath and said his worst fear.
“She’s gone, Az. Elain is gone.”