#azand

Until The Shadows Are Silent (Rhysand Edition)

“Rhysand, do you need help?”

“Always,” Rhysand was red-faced and exhausted as he stumbled up the stairs from Velaris, weighed down by a small tower of wrapped bundles. He smiled at Azriel’s voice- and smiled brighter as the pressure lifted and Azriel took the entire load of parcels.

Rhysand groaned dramatically and fell to his knees and slumped face-first onto the stairs.

Azriel stared at him a moment, “They’re covered in dirt. You shouldn’t be laying here.”

“Oh, are you a clean-freak now? That’s new,” Rhysand turned his head to the side to speak, facing Azriel’s boots.

“Next time you should just-”

“Just what? Fly up? Does that not defeat the purpose of this entire endeavor? You think people won’t notice?”

Azriel turned away and started walking up the steps towards the House of Wind. Only the ends of his earlobes- a warming pink- revealed his feelings.

“Az, wait for me!” Rhysand scrambled to his feet and hurriedly slapped dust and debris from his clothes. “Come on, I was just playing with you.” He caught up to Azriel and took an armful of the parcels back.

It was nearly eight years since Rhysand abolished the House of Wind as the main seat of Velaris and moved the operation down to his townhouse. Cassian and Azriel still called it home, but Cassian was in the Camps, and he preferred to stay there throughout the autumn.

So, at least for now, the only resident of that vast, empty house was Azriel.

Mor was off managing the Court of Nightmares, Amren was… well, Rhys learned long ago to leave the little one her privacy. In their absence he and Azriel had a chance to really bond one on one for the first time in decades. Since before Azriel was taken as a pawn of his father’s ambition.

At first it was normal. But as the days turned into weeks, the lingering glances increased and...

… and then something changed. Azriel and Rhysand were just eating their meal like always. Avoiding one another’s gaze while trying to stare at them from across the room- and the next thing either of them knew Azriel had blasted dinner off the table and Rhysand was laying where their pasta used to be.

Rhysand had Azriel’s shirt off, Azriel was desperately fumbling with the ties on his trousers, and then Mor walked in the front door. Flush, embarrassed, and panicked, Azriel started punching Rhysand in the face while the other wrapped his hands around Azriel’s throat and began trying to strangle him. Mor seemed to buy that the destruction (and half-shed clothes) were a result of some Illyrian brawl, but the two were too nervous to try anything more than a bit of heavy petting after that. 

Not unless they were somewhere they knew was private. 

The House of Wind had been empty for months, its staff only returning once every week to clean the dust away. The last cleaning had been three days ago. Azriel hated having staff in the place to watch over just one person, so he could attest that it was clear and empty.

It would be safe.

They weren’t afraid of Cassian or Mor seeing their closeness- not exactly. The fact of the matter was that even Rhysand and Azriel weren’t sure what their sudden burst of passion was. They’d fooled around as young fae- as any Illyrian male did if they admitted it or not. Rhysand could probably advise any of Azriel or Cassian’s lovers on how best to bed either male.

It just wasn’t so simple.

It wasn’t love, it was lust. It was fun without complications. It was something they could have to themselves without setting the tongues of Velaris wagging or getting Mor involved in trying to fan whatever flames she might think she saw. 

Azriel and Rhysand had no desire for one another where romance was concerned. 

Just lust.

So they kept apart as much as they could and then began planning for this day- the day they wandered up to the House looking for all of Velaris below like two normal fae making a simple delivery. Fake packs on either male’s backs hid their wings, and they’d foregone their normal combat boots for worker’s shoes.

No one would know. No one would come looking.

As they ascended towards the House of Wind, Rhysand and Azriel exchanged only mild pleasantries. They didn’t discuss what they were going up there to do, nor did they talk about what was in the wrapped parcels. 

Even though they were in disguise it still felt like they were on display as they climbed the staircase. They could see all of Velaris, so that must mean all of Velaris could see them. 

Though the stairs were long and winding, they made quick work of the climb. Soon enough Rhysand could see the golden gates of the House ahead. A placard just inside the gate informed anyone bored enough to make the climb that the High Lord of Night took inquiries from his Velaris townhouse, with a little note at the bottom detailing his address or where to deposit letters.

Rhysand turned and whacked the metal of the gate with a span of exposed skin on his wrist. The touch was all that was needed for the enchantments securing the palace to crawl back. With a neat click, the gate unlocked and the pair were free to enter the front garden. 

Across a span of green, the front door opened.

Even in the near-total darkness of the House, he walked hurriedly towards the back hall. He knew the way to Azriel’s rooms by heart. He visited the Spymaster often to keep him from wallowing too long in shadows.

The eastern side of the House- overlooking Velaris- held Rhysand’s suite. Azriel’s were a few levels below and set closer to the western edge of the mountain itself. He still had windows and a large balcony with a killer view, but the chambers attached to a network of tunnels dug into the mountain that connected him to other Courts.

Rhysand heard a loud ‘ thunk ’ as he reached the main entrance to Azriel’s network of chambers. He paused as the door opened from within and Azriel walked back down the hall to the bedroom. Another ‘ thunk ’. Rhysand realized he was kicking the metal door each time he passed it.

‘ Of course ,’ he thought as he walked into the chambers of the Spymaster. Azriel could winnow like the rest of them, but in darkness- the kind of darkness that filled the House at the moment- he could simply step through any shadow and come out another. No thunderclap of power to give him away (or warn Rhysand he was no longer behind him).

“Do I get to see what you bought?” 

Azriel’s main chamber was set as little more than a meeting room. A heavily fortified door marked access to the beginning of a mile and a half of trap-laced tunnel before opening back up into Azriel’s study, records room, and prison. 

His bedroom and bathroom were through gold-leaf coated doors on either side of the official parlor. Rhysand suspected he had other rooms that even he didn’t know about- not just the tunnels to other Courts, but possibly even entire chambers hidden within the House and mountain below.

The bedroom door was open, and Azriel had already deposited his parcels neatly on a side table. His bed was massive- easily wide enough for Az to sleep with his wings wholly unfurled. 

Cassian sometimes referred to it as ‘the orgy bed’- Rhysand thought Azriel would die of embarrassment. Even if that description had been apt in their younger days.

Considering the Shadowsinger’s personality it was probably the only thing he ever bought that could be considered excessive. All the rest of the furniture in his room was of the same aesthetic as the posh shit dotting the rest of the house. He’d never swapped it for things to his own taste like Rhysand had with the simpler, well worn furnishings now in the townhouse.

Apart from Azriel’s bed (blanketed in a thick green comforter) and the package-laden table, there was only a single chair in the entire room- set between a window and a faelight. His armor and weapons, Rhysand recalled, had their own separate place in his closet. 

The room was a near-empty cavern. Just the way Azriel liked it.

Rhysand’s room looked considerably more like a war zone.

Azriel waited as Rhysand dumped his own armful of parcels on the table. He’d nearly died of embarrassment placing the order with Anwynn. It was Rhysand who offered to pick them up on his way to the House.

“Az?” When he didn’t answer the question, Rhysand turned. Azriel was a master of shutting out any expressions, but Rhysand knew how to read him all the same. 

When they went after each other in the dining room it was almost a primal instinct. They’d had a bit too much to drink and by then all that lust was barely contained beneath the surface, waiting for release. Before deciding on this they’d toed the line until the tension between them was almost palpable.

Now that they were standing here, stone-cold sober and with absolute certainty they wouldn’t be interrupted, it was almost… awkward.

Rhysand studied Azriel’s face for a long time before he spoke, “I’m going to make sure no one has tried to tidy up my room. If you’re still here when I get back… if not, no hard feelings. We’re both grown-ass males, I won’t hold it against you.”

It would be a twenty-minute round trip through the winding halls of the House. Rhysand knew the route like the back of his hand.

What he couldn’t foresee was if Azriel would still be there when he returned.

---

---

‘ Footsteps approach. The High Lord. ’

Azriel shivered at the whispers that tickled the darkness of his mind. Twenty minutes as promised. He’d spent five of them standing stock-still by the table, exactly where he was when Rhysand left. 

He decided to leave. Then stay. 

Then leave. Then stay. 

Then leave. 

Then- then his hands apparently had enough of his bullshit and began to undo the ties on the packages from Anwynn.

Fifteen minutes was hardly enough time for what his hands intended, and it really wasn’t enough time for his body to get on board with the idea.

Thankfully Azriel was no stranger- or enemy- to pain.

Shortly after receiving the warning, Azriel heard the neat click of Rhysand’s shoes across stone and the soft rasp of talons dragging along the ground. Rhysand had removed his disguise, then. Another shiver ran through Azriel at the sound of the talon. It was something uniquely Rhysand- something he only did when he was preparing to take someone to bed.

No- that didn’t quite describe what Rhysand was like. 

Put someone to bed.

There was always an out, he always discussed limits and respected the boundaries of his partners as if they were the law of the land… but his style was rough, hard, and he never stopped until he was satisfied and his partner was practically drawing on their life force for strength.

That was what Azriel needed. Someone to reduce him to the absolute least he could be. Someone to take away the mantle and the pain and the rage that burned beneath the surface. Females could be found who would do a decent enough job, but he didn’t want ‘decent enough’. He needed perfection. 

He needed someone who knew exactly how to shatter a male who broke fae for a living.

Azriel listened in silence as Rhysand’s footsteps drew nearer. He didn’t bother pushing back the shadows that whispered in his ears- it was his friend’s job to silence those now.

There was no groan of wood as the door opened, merely a whisper as the well oiled hinges gave way. The footsteps went to the curtained windows. Azriel felt sun-warmth on his pale skin and the kiss of a cool breeze as the fabric was pulled aside one by one, putting him on display for Rhysand.

Azriel couldn’t help but shiver once more, imagining what the High Lord saw as he turned to face the bed.

The first parcel Azriel had unwrapped contained a hinged silver hoop almost large enough to fit around both of his thumbs simultaneously. It was the object he’d been most embarrassed to order- the hoop fit almost painfully tight around the base of his shaft and top of his testicles. If Anwynn’s little information card was to be believed, it would make it almost impossible for him to release, no matter how badly his body wanted to. At the same time it would make him harder and more sensitive to touch than he normally was.

Second came two tiny silver clamps that were tightened onto the pink buds of his chest and connected by chains of varying lengths- depending on what Rhysand would like to have Azriel do. For this display, Az had used the smallest chain, which ahd three small loops in the center for a series of weights that were set in a sandalwood box somewhere to the left of Ariel’s head.

The third package contained something to help Rhysand break Azriel faster. A long black cord ending in twin buckles that could be connected to one of two things: either a large, soft ball to seal off Azriel’s mouth, or (the current connection) a flat plate that covered his lips and was set at the center with a cutout. 

A rigid strip of leather and metal forced Azriel’s teeth apart and kept his mouth pinned wide open for Rhysand’s enjoyment, but a short, flat metal bar extending inward on the bottom pinned his tongue and made it impossible for Azriel to even attempt speech.

He didn’t want Rhysand to be gentle. He didn’t want options. He didn’t want a say in anything. If he had a say, he had to think, and that defeated the entire purpose. 

No choices. 

No possibility of objections.

If the third purchase was something to make Azriel more comfortable, the fourth was the exact opposite: a rod of increasingly large pear-shaped knots connected by a solid yet flexible shaft.

Azriel had muffled his screams with the ball-shaped muzzle as he pressed the narrow head of each pear against his entrance and forced them in one by one. Done right it would be extremely pleasurable as it stretched him and rubbed against the sensitive notch deep inside, but Azriel spent so long thinking he didn’t have the time for ‘right’. He’d forced it in as quickly as he could without doing serious damage.

Rhysand’s erection was truly massive- even if Azriel’s was a bit larger. Still, no matter how familiar Az was once upon a time with his length, he knew the last two knots were far bigger. Even now, imagining how Rhysand must be looking down at him, Azriel half wondered if it was worth the pain.

Every other bit of preparation he’d forced himself through gasping at the brutal invader inside of him.

Only two pieces remained after Azriel forced the metal knots into his body (three, if he counted changing the muzzle from the ball one to the one with the rounded opening). The first was the black blindfold Azriel now wore. It was sculpted to his eyes, slightly raised at the center, and didn’t allow even a single speck of light through. He honestly couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed even then.

He needed Rhysand to ravage him until he was finally freed of his own thoughts. To do that, he needed to be in the dark, where he could feel his shadows bleeding away as his mind crumbled.

The final (and heaviest) parcel contained a firm message to Rhysand in case everything else was too subtle. A long cuff of black cloth wrapped around each of Azriel’s legs just above the knee and connected with metal chains to matching bands just above his elbows. The device forced his legs apart and his ass up for Rhysand’s use (which only added to the agony of the metal knots).

A thick collar around Azriel’s throat had a metal hook on either side that was connected to two black cloth cuffs meant for Az’s wrists. Once it was on properly it would make it impossible for him to touch himself or even really close his legs. He’d managed to cuff one wrist in place, but for now Azriel only held the other cuff in his hand.

All of the extra accessories that came with the toys were neatly laid out on Azriel’s table in full view.

It was such a lewd display that a piece of Azriel’s mind worried Rhysand might just turn around and walk away. Az had never done anything so brazen in his life, he honestly had no idea how Rhysand might react.

Doubt crept into Azriel’s heart as the silence stretched around him. He shifted slightly- drawing a fresh wave of pain from the knot forced into his rear. No motion on the bed or sound of footsteps told him Rhysand had approached, and even the breeze from the windows seemed to die away.

His stomach twisted and he shifted again, trying to close his legs slightly and maybe preserve some of his decency. The silence grew louder. His fingertips began to shake where he held onto the loose cuff. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t ask Rhysand anything. Even his shadows were silent.

He’d been wrong to surprise Rhysand like this.

‘ We should have gone through them together, instead of making him walk in on something like this. ’

Azriel’s fingers grew slack and he let go of the cuff hesitantly.

His hand was caught in a vice. Azriel actually gasped as a strong hand forced his arm back up through the cuff and it was fastened in place. The rough movement pulled Azriel’s leg further up and he cried against the pain in his hips.

The hand released him suddenly. Rhysand’s only response to Azriel’s discomfort was a sharp intake of breath.That kind of cry tended to make Rhysand hard and woke the predator that he so expertly hid from the world.

Something brushed against the blindfold- Rhysand’s fingertips. He felt the dampness at the edges where tears were caught in the fabric. Azriel never cried- especially not in bed. Bound as he was- without eyes to see or a mouth to read- Rhysand would still know the tears must be-

Azriel’s body jerked and he shouted as Rhysand’s finger traced the aching rim of his rear right where the skin was stretched to the maximum around cool metal. A loop at the end of the chain served as a handle of sorts, and after tracing the edge Rhysand brushed it just hard enough to shift the thing inside his friend.

Even if he could not see Azriel’s face, Rhysand could tell how much pain such a gentle act inflicted on him. He tried to roll away from Rhysand’s touch and made several frankly embarrassing whines through the muzzle.

“Idiot,” Rhysand whispered beside his ear.

Azriel felt him move away this time, no longer hiding his movements. The sound of fabric against fabric could be heard, then a rustling as Rhysand removed his clothing one piece at a time. The prick even took care to fold each piece neatly, ignoring his aching friend on the bed.

Azriel heard something scrape against wood. Rhysand had picked up something from his table. Desperate to distract himself from the burning in his hips, Azriel tried to imagine what it was. His answer came with Rhysand’s return- as the other man knelt beside him- mindful of his outstretched wings- he set something cold and round on Azriel’s stomach.

“Why didn’t you use this?”

The phial of lubricant that was meant to be used with the toy. 

He didn’t use it because he remembered his first time with Rhysand. Az had forced himself down on his friend’s member- an action that drew blood. Rhysand immediately shoved him off and showed him how to apply the thick liquid and under the patient ministrations of his hand Azriel was undone. He didn’t mind the pain entirely- not compared to the memory of how generous Rhysand was with the pleasure that came from spreading the lubricant. 

Rhysand pulled the stopper from the phial and drew it across Azriel’s skin. He brushed the base delicately around his tied balls, to the thin stretch of skin between them and the swollen, red entrance. Just as Azriel prepared to whimper again the phial disappeared.

Something cold, thick, and wet dropped down onto Azriel’s hole. He jumped at first, then sighed appreciatively as the cold helped dull the pain. 

It also did not last.

By the time Rhysand set aside the phial, the cold sensation was warming. Long fingers pressed against the metal knot, then rubbed the lubricant into the stretched flesh. Azriel closed his eyes tight (not that it mattered) and shuddered as Rhysand began to pull and push at the metal knot.

The span inside Azriel was larger than what was pinned at his hole- which was already painful enough. He was surprised nothing tore on the way in. Rhysand paused a few times to retrieve the phial and add more of the liquid. Dutiful as ever, he massaged the skin while he worked to convince it to stretch more easily.

“Relax.”

It was the only warning Rhysand gave before firmly taking hold of the handle and pulling. Azriel’s back arched and he shouted out as Rhysand pulled the largest knot from inside him, drawing the others towards his entrance as well. The pressure was too much- and when his body finally released the largest knot the next one down was firmly against the small notch inside that drove his body crazy.

Pain crashed into pleasure, turning into a creature Azriel couldn’t hope to fight. He felt himself draw up- but the metal band pinching him closed prevented more than a few drops of white release from escaping.

It was agony- the very best kind. Azriel’s entire body began to shudder as it tried to climax. He felt himself opening and closing- gaping for an erection to tighten around and only finding the irregular shapes still inside him.

Rhysand waited patiently until the spasm passed. Azriel drew a long, shuddering breath. He couldn’t help but moan and whimper with every exhale.

More of the liquid was poured into Azriel’s opening. Then the real torture began.

Rhysand pulled the line of metal knots out of Azriel’s ass one by one, adding liquid as needed. When he finally reached the smallest he began to push them back in slowly. Azriel cried out as each one struck against the notch inside him- then whimpered in fear as he felt the largest of the knots pressing against him once more.

Rhysand forced it in without mercy. Azriel braced for a wall of pain-

He felt full, almost uncomfortably so, but the agony from before was gone. Rhysand drew the largest knot back just far enough that Azriel was stretched to the maximum, then slowly twisted it, grinding against the ridge. A loud cry escaped Azriel’s muzzle and he felt his cock throb painfully as it tried to climax yet again and was denied.

The liquid Rhysand used to ease the toy’s entry was warm now, and Azriel felt a strange tingling from his insides. It took several moments for Azriel to register the new sensation. His member was twitching, pulsing with a desperate need to release. The ring was doing its job. He was larger than he’d ever been, and much harder. Azriel groaned loudly at a soft tickle across the head- Rhysand’s breath. He was teasing Azriel with his closeness.

Trapped in darkness, unable to beg for what he needed and without the ability to climax, Azriel was in some wonderful hell. His insides were quickly melting under the heat of the lubrication, and the knots shifting in his ass now felt better than he ever imagined.

If Rhysand spoke, his voice was drowned out by the high pitched moans and whimpers that escaped around Azriel’s opened mouth. The tears that drenched the blindfold were no longer ones of pain, but of desperation and need. Azriel tried to raise his hips and help Rhysand move the metal balls, but-

They stopped moving for a moment. Azriel’s whole body was on fire and he shouted in frustration. Something hard and heavy set down between his wings and ears. Without a word of warning, he felt pressure on the muzzle, then something began to push in.

Azriel’s heart pounded, even though this was one of the things he fantasized about the most. Rhysand was lowering his burning erection into his friend’s throat. Azriel tipped his head back and forced himself to breathe slowly through his nose as his mouth was filled.

He couldn’t stroke the shaft as Cass eased in, close his lips around the gloriously thick length, or tease the head of Rhysand’s cock with his tongue. All Azriel could do was let himself be used as nothing more than a hole for his friend’s pleasure.

If it were possible, he thought he grew harder.

Rhysand knew Azriel needed to be taken roughly. He gave the blind, bound man only one gentle thrust before he began to pump his hips and fuck his throat in earnest. Azriel felt something wet and warm wrap around his own cock as he tried to time his breathing to Rhysand’s movement.

A mouth.

Rhysand’s teeth gently scraped against his most sensitive skin and Azriel let loose a strangled cry. The sensation on his tormented length was the dangerous edge of comfortable- territory further from pleasure than Azriel usually dared venture. With the angle of the assault on his throat and the way his mouth was pinned open the sound that came out was more sultry than intended. 

Not an objection, but an invitation for another scrape of sharp teeth along his curving length.

A rare groan escaped Rhysand as his hips pumped into Azriel. It reverberated around the bound man’s cock and drove bolts of pleasure straight through him. Whatever was left of Azriel’s mind braced for the agony of pleasure without release.

His body tightened as he struggled to inhale. Rhysand’s cock was too big for his poor throat and Azriel couldn’t breathe fast enough through his nose. As his mind filled with a desperate fog- one that pushed aside the shadows- Rhysand abruptly changed the teasing on his cock, opting to seal his mouth around it and nearly swallow the head. At the same time he reached down and began sliding the metal knots in and out of Azriel in earnest.

Something blasted through Azriel’s mind, shattering it completely as his hips bucked up to meet Rhysand’s mouth and release was ripped from him. Every eruption of heat into Rhysand’s mouth brought a violent, almost painful pleasure. Azriel’s eyes rolled up into his head. His entire body seized and it was the leather guard of the muzzle itself that kept him from biting down on Rhysand’s most sensitive part. 

Azriel began to shudder and thrash as something more powerful than he’d ever felt before ravaged his body. His legs tried to kick, his body constricted violently around objects moving inside him, and that now burning hot lubricant made him feel like one raw, delicious nerve. Azriel screamed out around Rhysand’s cock and a moment later he was drowning in thick, salty musk as Rhysand released into him.

Fire and lightning danced beneath his skin. He wasn’t sure when he took the deep shaking breath or how he managed to swallow all of the release Rhysand pumped down his throat. Bright lights flashed in Azriel’s blinded vision. His body was still trembling. He didn’t try to think too much- Azriel wasn’t even sure he could.

The sound he made was half-mad and weak. The kind of sound Azriel would have associated with someone who had become nothing more than molten pleasure.

His body was rolled over so that Azriel was pinned on his stomach, but he didn’t have it in him to care. Cold air kissed his cheeks as Rhysand undid the clasp on the muzzle. A light touch pulled it away. Azriel gagged as the line of curved metal slid back along his tongue and released him at last. His jaw ached, but he didn’t try to close his mouth. His mind couldn’t process something so complex.

Something pooled around his cheek- drool or Rhysand’s semen, he couldn’t tell. The blindfold stayed in place.

A sudden intense pleasure at his hips reminded Azriel that the metal knots were still inside him, but not for long. They shifted and moved, grinding against his most sensitive parts. The throbbing slowly returned as Rhysand fucked him with the metal one last time- his erection rising from the dead.

Azriel wished it stayed down. He couldn’t hope to move, could hardly manage more than the softest of moans as- with a sudden wrenching motion- Rhysand pulled the device from him at last. As metal slid over the liquid inside him Azriel shuddered. Were he free he might have tried to release again. 

His toes curled and he whimpered.

Without the knots he felt cold, empty. His ass gaped where it had been stretched to the maximum. Azriel could feel it twitching- opening and closing. Begging for something else to fill it. 

He didn’t want it- he just wanted to be left alone.

No, wait. That was the opposite of what he wanted. He wanted to be filled, used, and fucked until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

Azriel was both desperate for and dreading what he knew would come soon. Rhysand’s length buried inside him, their bodies fitting together as if they were made for one another. His mind could not express what it wished. His body could not decide which it needed more. To be filled or left alone?

That was precisely why Azriel bought the muzzle with the ball, and Rhysand knew it.

He left Azriel on the floor a moment and returned to brush it gently against Azriel’s lips, “Ready?”

His voice was soft. Azriel offered the smallest of nods. With great care, Rhysand lifted his head and fit the new muzzle on. Azriel tried to swallow around the rough ache in his ravaged throat, but the memory of Rhysand taking his mouth without mercy made him shiver in anticipation.

The spread of Azriel’s legs thanks to the binds connecting them to his upper arms meant his ass was raised and on full display for Rhysand. His friend knelt behind him (his ‘no kneeling’ policy didn’t extend to play in the bedroom with his friends) and didn’t hesitate even for a moment to bury his entire length in a single sharp thrust.

Metal knots or no, Azriel was unprepared for the sheer size and heat of Rhysand moving inside him. He shouted against the gag, then moaned loudly as the other grabbed the base of his wings and used them as a handle to set a torturous rhythm. Pull out slowly, slam in hard and fast, stir his hips to shift the member inside Azriel, and pull out slowly once more. 

Rhysand’s hand slid down from the ridge of Azriel’s left wing. For a moment the delirious male thought he intended to take hold of his friend’s cock and stroke it in time with the thrusts. 

He’d forgotten about the other little toy.

Abruptly there was a vicious sting in the red rises of his chest. Rhysand had a tight hold of the chain. Now every time he slammed into Azriel the force sent the chain swinging and delivered sharp twists to Azriel’s nipples. He was almost overwhelmingly sensitive on a normal day. Between the still-tingling sensation from the lubrication and the pulsing of his vice-caught cock, he had no hope at all.

Azriel was limp as Rhysand crashed against him. Heat erupted deep inside as Rhysand released without warning. He pumped his hips, driving it further and further into his friend. Azriel groaned happily at both the sensation and the fact that Rhysand was not going soft. It was decades- maybe even a century- since he’d last felt Rhysand’s cum erupting inside his ass.

His cock was nearly purple and dripped with desperate need. It twitched pathetically as Rhysand’s grip bruised Azriel’s wing and the air filled with the heady musk of sex. Even Rhysand was breathing harder. To the delight of whatever was left of Azriel’s mind, Rhysand refused to stop moving with the climax.

There was a pause in the relentless pace and Azriel was flipped onto his back once more. His wings curved up- but talons pinned them down- Rhysand’s own wings.

“I want you to see this,” Rhysand’s voice was low. He undid the blindfold.

Azriel’s eyes were indeed rolled up into his head. He was shivering and flush, his face shiny with the drool or release that had dripped from his lips. Still inside him, Rhysand bent down and left featherlight kisses along Azriel’s jaw and neck. As he sucked at the column of Azriel’s throat, the other managed to regain enough of his faculties to look down.

Rhysand noticed in an instant and he sat back up. A darkness filled his eyes that both frightened and thrilled Azriel. 

Something was on the bed beside the two men- something Azriel hadn’t placed before this all began. It was a black parcel he had never seen before.

The question in his eyes was clear enough.

“I ordered this one myself,” Rhysand said. He undid the tie on the wrapped parcel. Inside was a simple wooden box that Rhysand opened and held up for Azriel to see.

An almost impossibly long cock made of polished metal, ridged in false veins and about half as thick as Rhysand’s member.

Azriel’s eyes went wide as Rhysand grabbed the phial of lubrication once more and coated the metal in that liquid that was already driving him (and probably Rhysand buried inside Azriel) insane. His cock twitched and white cream dripped from the head. He was terrified of the sheer size and yet already Azriel was fantasizing about how it would feel to have something so long- a few inches longer than Rhysand himself- buried inside his body.

But when Rhysand lowered the cock to his hole, he made no move to pull out.

Azriel finally understood what Rhysand wanted to try.

He closed his eyes and braced himself as Rhysand pushed the metal against the side of his own cock, using his length as a helpful guide as he forced the second shaft into his friend. Azriel screamed against the gag- though in pleasure or pain even he couldn’t tell. He slammed his head into the blanket a few times- as much of a thrash as Az could manage- before Rhysand paused to grab a pillow and pushed it beneath him.

While he was bent over Azriel, Rhysand raised an eyebrow in question. An offer to remove the metal cock and stop its advance.

By that time Azriel just needed release, however he could get it. He pushed his hips down as best he could, screaming into the gag as another half inch slid inside and forced him open. It was now well past the point the largest metal knot had been and the fit was much tighter.

Rhysand put his palm on the base of the metal cock and bit his lip as he shoved it in. The motion was fluid and unyielding, and Rhysand did not stop until it was fully seated.

Azriel’s eyes bulged and he nearly stopped breathing at the depth and pressure of the second cock. His toes were curled, his member near bursting, and he stared wide-eyed at the ceiling. What fractured pieces of Azriel that had managed to pull together after the last release were long gone. He couldn’t feel anything beyond the two large rods so forcefully shoved into his poor little hole.

He stirred with a gasping cry as Rhysand tipped him onto his side and straddled his leg, setting himself even deeper. Rhysand released the leg near his chest from its binding and held it tight against his own chest to use for leverage. His free hand went to the chain between Azriel’s nipples, which he grabbed as if it were a convenient handle.

Rhysand began to thrust. 

The pressure inside Azriel was incredible. The two cocks sat on either side of the nub deep inside and when Rhysand moved it was as if it were being sawed against both at once. A kind of pleasure Azriel didn’t even know existed burned through his body and made him lose a primal, near animalistic scream into the gag. A scream so loud that, were it not for the object muffling him, it could very well have been heard all the way in Velaris below.

Azriel was by no means quiet during normal sex, but this was a new sensation entirely.

Something moist and soft traveled the length of Azriel’s foot. He managed to turn his head only far enough to see Rhysand’s tongue complete its journey. Deprived of lips to seize, Rhysand was concentrating on the sensitive skin of Azriel’s foot.

Rhysand never stopped fucking him around the metal cock, not even as he took three toes into his mouth and began to bob his head just as he’d done when he swallowed Az’s erection. He set the motion of his head counter to that of his thrusts and the sharp yanks on the chain that connected Azriel’s nipples. 

Purple and swollen, Azriel needed release so badly it overrode all of the pain his lover was inflicting upon him. He needed to touch his cock, to stroke it and send it over the edge in spite of the impediment he’d put in place. Azriel’s hands were still trapped fast, and so all he could do was claw at his own shoulders as Rhysand gasped, threw his head back, and once again heat and pressure exploded inside Azriel’s body. He was being filled with rope after rope of hot cum- something that usually sent him hurtling over the edge. 

But there was no relief. His body didn’t have the strength to defy the metal binding.

Rhysand released his foot and leg. His ears were red and he was panting, but weariness lined his eyes. He was at last spent. 

Rhysand pulled his wilting length from within Azriel with a vulgar ‘ pop ’. He eyed the white cream that dripped out along the silver cock. Even without the object of Azriel’s desire still inside him he was shaking, nearly vibrating as his member visibly twitched and pulsed. 

It took some time to undo the restraints around Azriel’s wrists. His arms collapsed to his sides, utterly useless. Rhysand removed the cuffs from his arms and legs, then the gag.

His hand reached for the metal tight around Azriel’s cock. That was when Azriel found his voice at last, “Don’t… metal-” he couldn’t form the words. Not after everything his mouth and throat had been through.

The meaning came through well enough as he forced a shaking hand between his legs to touch the protruding hilt of the false cock that still filled him. The one Rhysand intended to fuck him with and grant a final release.

But Azriel wanted it out without achieving his own gratification. Rhysand obeyed, sliding the object slowly from inside Azriel. His friend gave little response to indicate he even noticed it was gone.

Rhysand’s hand returned to the metal clasp around Azriel’s balls and the other nodded. Azriel had moved his heavy fingers up his chest to the chain between his clamped nipples, where he gripped the small weight that still hung in place.

When Rhysand flipped the small catch that released the metal, Azriel yanked down hard on the metal, ripping it from him and sending a vicious and violent bolt of pain through his body. He cried out as his cock was finally freed and tried to release- but the pain from his swollen red nipples slammed into the cresting wave and shattered it.

The need for release was tangible. His cock was dripping onto the toned muscle of his abdomen. Azriel wanted to climax so badly that he nearly started crying at the agony of holding it all back.

Azriel did not dare move a single muscle as he fought his war. Rhysand just stared at him, confused and unsure what his role should be. When the throbbing had eased somewhat, Azriel pulled Rhysand down to lay beside him. The two men embraced and Rhysand at last was able to draw him into a deep, hot kiss.

His bites to Azriel’s lips were gentler than they normally would be, the kiss not as aggressive and claiming. He gently rubbed Azriel’s sore nipples, kneaded the flesh of his rear, and finally offered a warm palm to rest against the bruised and aching base of Azriel’s cock.

“Tell me what you want,” he broke the kiss to whisper to Azriel after what felt like an eternity. The other member was still hot and curved, pinned at the very edge of release. He’d only had one true climax in their liaison whereas Rhysand managed three . And the lone orgasm was made more difficult (and intense) by the agony Azriel endured with that clamp.

Azriel couldn’t speak. He rolled his hips, wincing at the soreness that was rapidly setting in. It would have to be quick.

As he so often did, Rhysand understood without needing to be told. He rolled on top of Azriel and covered his friend’s mouth with his own. There was no biting this time as they kissed. Rhysand’s wings pulled in close, curtaining them as he stroked Azriel’s tongue with his own and firmly grasped Azriel’s aching cock.

He wanted to climax one final time not bound and trussed- but in Rhysand’s gentle embrace. For his part, Rhysand’s pace was slow and measured. When Azriel’s breath grew strained he released his mouth to nibble at an earlobe. Rhysand rolled his hips, rubbing his own member along Azriel’s until- with a seizing gasp- Azriel erupted across Rhysand’s stomach and chest. Though quiet, the force of his release was almost hard enough to reach Rhysand’s chin.

Azriel pushed Rhysand up to sit in his lap. He brushed the strands of Rhysand’s hair back and licked his own release away with gentle devotion. Rhysand ran his fingertips along Azriel’s back as he worked, stroking and lightly scratching at the base of his wings to help ease his tired muscles.

In sitting up Azriel felt a deeper soreness than he’d ever known settle into his hips and rear. The tingling warmth was gone, but he was still happily full of Rhysand’s three releases (the two in his ass being the most satisfying). “I hope you brought some food up, I don’t think I can walk on those stairs.”

Rhysand chuckled- a sound desperately rare and precious, “When you’re ready for round two I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll need me to fly you back down.”

“Promise?” Azriel smiled as he tipped forward and rested his head against Rhysand’s bare chest. 

Rhysand wrapped his arms around his friend, holding him tight, safe, and close, “Promise.”

He kissed the top of Azriel’s head and tipped them both back so that Azriel could drift off to sleep atop him. 

“Don’t make me wait another century for this,” Azriel rasped. His wings and body alike were limp, it wouldn’t be long before he was unconscious.

“I’ll fuck you every week until you tell me to stop.”

“Twice a week.”

“Deal, now shut up before I decide the break is over.”

“Start whenever you want, I’m taking a nap,” Azriel forced his legs to part.

Rhysand snorted by his ear as Azriel felt two large fingers push into him and begin to thrust, “You think I can’t make you cum even when you don’t want to?”

His hole was sore and aching, but if Azriel was capable of speech he wasn’t as far gone as he wanted to be, “Do your worst.”

“Is your safeword still ‘peaches’?” Rhysand’s voice was a low growl as the pressure from his fingers increased- he’d eased in a third.

Despite himself, Azriel felt something stirring. “Yes, and don’t you dare stop until I use it.”

“I’m going to put my whole fist up your ass until you stop giving me commands,” Rhysand hissed.

“Make me beg you to stop,” Azriel shivered and felt himself starting to stiffen.