Chapter Text
Azriel
Azriel closed the door with a heavy thud, and took all but four long strides before he knelt in front of Elain. He paused, gazing into her glistening doe eyes, the eyes looking straight into his soul, as if he were her safe haven. His usual mask of indifference was gone, replaced by a face etched with worry.
“I didn’t know where to go,” she whimpered, her voice trembling with vulnerability. “I needed peace and quiet. I remember you gave me a spare key in case of emergencies... I just... blacked out and drove here without even thinking.”
Before he could speak, she threw her arms around his neck with such force that he nearly toppled over. Her grip was tight, her body trembling against him.
“Oh El, sweetness,” he murmured, trying gently to pry her face up to meet his gaze. But she only clung tighter. Instead, he eased onto the couch, carefully rubbing the side of her back. He nudged her to shift onto his lap, and she moved without releasing her hold, settling there with her head hidden in the crook of his neck, her hair hiding her face. He wrapped his arms around her slowly and cradled her body against his chest. As he held her, a potent mix of adrenaline and anger surged through him, mingled with the overpowering aroma of her scent, one of jasmine and sweet honey surrounded them. The sensation was both overwhelming and disorienting, he felt high. Him, holding her, felt sinful in its intensity. After a moment, he whispered, “What happened?”
His stomach twisted as she whispered, “I know you already know, Azriel.”
Her breath was hot against his skin, and she slowly pulled her face away from his neck, her eyes locking with his. Their faces, inches apart.
“I felt it in the pit of my stomach the moment he walked in tonight and I saw the black eye and bruises on his face, that you were responsible for it.” she confessed, her voice trembling.
Seeing the horror in his eyes, the realization that she glimpsed the shadows lurking within him, his body went rigid, his heart pounding erratically. “I’m not angry,” she said softly, her fingers lightly grazing up and down his neck in a gesture of reluctant reassurance. The delicate touch sent shivers up his spine.
“I knew you wouldn’t have done it without good reason,” she continued, her voice barely more than a whisper. Her words carried a weight of understanding that both relieved and tortured him.
A shuddering whimper escaped her lips as she continued, “He told me everything—or what I think is everything… He called it a mistake, but how could it be a mistake when he's been doing this for five months?” Her voice cracked, her anguish raw and palpable. “Tell me, Az, how could it be a mistake when this has been going on for so long?”
A rhetorical question he knew.
“Why wasn’t I enough?” she whispered into the night, her words a plea to the Mother, to the void. The quiet desperation in her voice lingered in the air, a haunting echo of her shattered heart.
He spoke at last, his voice firm and laced with an undertone of deep protectiveness. “El, you are everything. He never deserved you, never could match your worth. He made the biggest mistake of his life. I want you to know, with every part of you, that you deserve so much more than someone like him.”
He took his thumb and wiped her tears and cradled her face within his left palm.
“I know this might not mean much coming from me, and I don’t often believe in love. But if I did, El, I’d know that you are the one person on this earth who truly deserves it. You deserve a love that is worthy of you.”
She smiled sadly at his omission, and he could sense the weight of her understanding.
She leaned her forehead against his, closing her eyes as their breaths mingled.
“How did you know, Az? Of what he did?” she asked softly.
He closed his eyes, his voice heavy with regret, “I found out from the case I was working on Thursday. I didn’t think it was my place to tell you directly. I made sure he told you this weekend, or I would have. I’m so sorry, El.”
“Don’t be, Az." She paused, "I understand. Thank you for standing up for me."
Another long pause, "I love you.”
He knew she meant it as a gesture of friendship; they had exchanged those words casually before. But in that moment, his chest tightened with an unexpected spark, and he silently cursed himself for feeling anything at all.
She pulled her forehead away and stared at him. Then, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek like she usually would in parting. But this time she let her lips linger on his skin. The warmth of her breath sent another shiver through him.
She dragged her lips to the side of his face close to his ear and she kissed him there, then let them travel down to the side of his neck and kissed him there. Each touch was soft and deliberate, stirring something deep within him.
His breathing grew uneven, caught between confusion and an unspoken desire.
“El, what are you doing?” he asked, his voice rough with a mixture of curiosity and need.
“Az, please just let me do this. I need to feel that someone loves me right now.”
Her voice was a fragile whisper, her body pressed close to his. She was reaching for comfort, and in this moment, he was her refuge.
He placed his hands gently on her hips. “I love you, El,” he said simply, the words carrying a sincerity that needed no embellishment.
“I know."
"You feel like home to me,” she whispered, her face not leaving his neck. She started licking his neck with her tongue, tasting his salt heated skin. He groaned and gripped her body. She opened her mouth fully against the crook of his neck and sucked his skin, hard. His co*ck growing incredibly hard underneath her body, his pants tight.
He was in heaven, he was in hell.
The feeling of her tongue on his body, his salvation.
He moved his scarred right hand to grip her hair right at the nape of her neck.
He no longer had restraint on his own body, “El baby, f*ck. Use me baby.”
Elain
Her core purred at his words.
She knew this was wrong, that she shouldn’t be using Azriel like this. Yet, she couldn’t stop herself. An overwhelming emptiness gnawed at her, a void that begged to be filled. Her body felt like it was on fire, and even though she was drained from hours of crying, her soul burned with a desperate need for something to soothe the ache within her.
And he tasted so intoxicating against her tongue. He felt so good, she craved it.
In the dead of night, she would sometimes find herself wondering what Azriel might taste like. Her girlfriends often gushed about his irresistible attractiveness, practically drooling. She wasn’t oblivious to his beauty—he was undeniably the most beautiful man she had ever seen.
She just knew the gods or the Mother had spent extra time perfecting him, making him look absolutely delectable. She had always thought so. But he was her forbidden fruit, a temptation she couldn’t allow herself to indulge in since she was spoken for.
Instead, she allowed herself to know him as a friend and discovered that his soul was just as intriguing. He carried a deep darkness, visible in the scars on his hands—a sign of his past struggles. Yet, beneath that exterior, there was a quiet strength and a surprising kindness that drew her in.
His presence seemed to lift her own burdens, and in many ways, they were very good for each other. She let herself care for him, to cherish their friendship. Yet, in those quiet, solitary moments of the night, the forbidden thoughts would sneak in. She couldn’t help but wonder, just for a fleeting moment, what it would be like to taste the sweetness of that forbidden fruit.
And on nights like tonight, her willpower was weak. So tonight she tasted the fruit.
She moaned softly, licking and sucking his neck fervently. “You taste exactly how I always imagined you would,” she whispered, her cheeks burning with the confession, but she didn’t care.
She knew Az wouldn’t take the lead tonight; he was her best friend, and while he would let her seek comfort through him, he wouldn’t ask for anything in return. She hoped that, in her lapse of judgment, she could still make him feel good.
She could feel his co*ck rock hard underneath her, and her desire was undeniable. Shifting to straddle his lap, the blankets that previously covered her fell around her hips. She was still in the floral sundress from dinner, its hem gathered around her waist, leaving her underwear pressed directly against his jeans. His eyes were half-lidded, intrigue in his dark gaze as he ran a hand through his tousled hair. Her face was flushed, her hair loose around her shoulders, and her lips slightly parted, her eyes needy, mirroring her inner turmoil.
Grazing the edge of his t-shirt, she let her fingers feel the skin just above his adonis belt. She motioned for him to lift the shirt, he complied, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. She ran her fingers up and down his hardened core, the defined contours of his abs, tracing the swirl of his many tattoos that span the distance of his chest. She thanked the Mother for this fine specimen. His eyes tracked her movements, her admiration of his body palpable. She was practically ravenous for him.
Taking one of his scarred hands, she gently pressed it against her own, noting how his palm was practically twice the size of hers. She looked into his eyes, guiding his hand to cup her face. His gaze shone bright, utterly captivated by her. She then used her palm and moved his hand so that his thumb rested near her lips. With one deliberate motion, she pressed his thumb against her lips, tilted her head down, and sucked gently, all while maintaining eye contact.
His eyes were blown, lust filled, the woodsy cedar scent of him wafting up to her. His breathing was deep and labored. It was hot, forbidden, and yet undeniably right. It was too much. It was not enough.
“You’re such a dirty girl. My dirty girl,” he praised.
Even without touching her, his words were making her so wet. The sensation building and pooling through the thin fabric of her thong. She felt feral for him.
She rocked her core against his body, seeking friction, and she let out a soft moan as his finger slid in her mouth. Her cl*t rubbed against the rough texture of his jeans, stimulating her and feeling delicious, her breath quickened as she felt a sheen of sweat forming on her skin.
“That’s it, El. Take what’s yours,” he said, his voice firm and reassuring.
She removed his thumb from her mouth and instead guided his fingers—pointer, middle, and ring—toward her lips, exploring them up and down and using her palm guiding them deeper.
“Holy sh*t,” she heard him say and she smiled against his fingers and sucked harder, pushing them deep inside her throat. She gagged on them, drool dripping down her chin. She was messy, wild, free. Not words that would typically describe her. And she felt alive.
She rocked her body even harder against him, Azriel's other hand gripped her hip so hard she hoped it would leave a bruise the next day. His co*ck straining in his pants rubbed against her opening and it felt euphoric. He felt so good, she wished he was pounding her raw. f*cking every sad dark thought out of her, she could easily get lost on his co*ck, she thought.
She pulled his hands out of her mouth for one second and babbled, "Az, your co*ck feels sooo good against my puss*, I wish you were pounding me right now," her words slurred.
He bit down hard on his bottom lip at her omission and moaned loudly, “El baby, you’re going to make me come with those sweet words.”
Dirty words she had never spoken to anyone before, but she wasn't quite herself right now.
She pushed his fingers back in her mouth lapping them up and down. Wanting to feel full.
Her body was close, she could feel herself on the edge. She rocked her puss* against him with more ferocity. He could feel it too.
“You are f*cking perfect, baby. You are so f*cking perfect. You are taking my fingers so good. You feel so good, El. Be a good girl and come for me.”
His words sent a wave of pleasure through her, she came. Her org*sm was so hard, she moaned on his fingers and clenched his wrist tight, her knees felt weak and shaky against his body and her puss* was purring.
Slowly withdrawing his hand from her mouth, gasping and utterly dazed, she looked at him with deep affection. “Beautiful,” she whispered, admiring all of him. The ache in her heart was beating not out of hurt.
