Break the hands on every clock

So we can take our time

Make the most, live every minute

It's all so that I can make you mine

-Slaves 'Body On Fire'

Feyre honestly didn't know why the man in front of her caught her eye, maybe it was that he was so different from her husband? Where her husband was all light haired and fair skinned tan this man was dark, dark hair with a matching set of strange almost violet eyes, and his tan was more to do with his genetics than the actual sun. His cheekbones were sharp and maybe that was it, the difference between her husband and this man made her do it.

She was in a club sipping a drink when she caught the handsome stranger out of the corner of her eye appreciatively checking her out. She normally would have ignored him, but she was in a mood to flirt. She was out because Tamlin and her had gotten into a fight and she needed to unwind. A drink bought by the handsome stranger and she was flirty and loving the attention, even if the man seemed suspicious when asked about his profession.

That didn't stop her from continuing to flirt as if he'd be lucky.

At some point she realized the man— Rhys —thought so too. Well she did as he picked up her left hand and studied the ridiculously large emerald of her wedding ring. With her mouth upturned at one corner she started to slide it off with her thumb.

A brazen look flashed in his eyes as he leaned closer to her. "Does your husband know what you're about to do?"

"No," and that was it. That was the word that broke the dam. She was pulling him up from their seats at the bar, "where to?"

That's how she found herself giggling as she was wrapped around him as they checked into a hotel thirty minutes away from where they met. It's how she found herself being led down the hall to their room, past the rooms probably full of sleeping guests it was almost two in the morning. She walked past him into the room, already on edge when the key card had buzzed and let them in. He shut the door and she turned to face him, he crowded against her and placed open kisses on her exposed neck and shoulders, one hand gathering most of her hair to hold it out of the way. His other hand bunched in the top of her dress and started to pull it down off her. Feyre was standing next to the hotel bed in black lacy panties and heels, the dress around her ankles.

With a slow seductiveness she sat down making him follow her with his mouth before he was kneeling next to the bed to let his mouth wander down to her breasts. He cupped one so he could suck on the nipple, fingers hard on her skin. With a hand planting firmly on her chest she was pushed backwards as his mouth traveled down her navel, biting the flesh as he went.

She raised her legs to put them over his shoulders as his nose ran down the front of her panties. His teeth nipped before he mouthed her through the fabric, he pulled aside the lace to place his mouth against her skin, his tongue ran between her folds until he pressed it hard against her clit. A moan tore from her throat as he closed mouth to suck on it. The points of her heels dug into his shoulders when she placed her feet flat on his shoulders. His mouth worked her, his tongue entering her, tasting her. With a hand pressing his head closer she pressed her cheek against the blanket on the hotel bed. Rhysand made sure she was shaking by the time her removed that last piece of clothing before undressing himself. The condom was rolled on and he rest on his knees between her thighs, one in each hand. She whined as he pushed in, skin on fire as he gave a testing thrust looking at her.

She clung to him as he thrust slowly and deeply, her heels pressed against his thighs. Her mouth met his as it didn't take much for her to come again. Feyre was sure after orgasm number three— or was it four? —she blacked out, only coming to as he moved away.

She came to with him standing next to her, hips thrusting cock in his own hand. She felt bad and he smiled, "just watch."

Her eyes screamed I'm sorry and that just made his smirk grow before his eyes closed. He spilled his release down his closed fingers, and took a few steadying breaths before he turned to sit on the edge of the bed. Shifting enough to crawl over to him, Feyre took hold of his come covered hand and licked it clean. "To make up for falling asleep."

"Am I that bad?" He laughed, but there was a bit of tightness.

She furiously shook her head, "god no, just, I haven't been sleeping well and you just helped. What time do we have to be out?" Heels were tossed to the floor as she slid up towards the headboard.

"Not until tomorrow morning," he moved the covers back as the both settled down in the bed.

They both knew they should leave and go their own separate ways, but there in the dark with only the hotel sign giving enough light to barely see, she could feel his eyes on her and Feyre didn't know if he knew how much she wanted him to hold her. That was wrong to want someone who was a stranger to touch her, she was married, but they just had sex, and she wasn't recieving it from the man she married.

She awoke right before daybreak and slid below the sheets taking him into her mouth, she wanted to make up for last night. He moaned and tangled a hand in her brown hair, her name spilled from his lips and she pulled off him.

"I'm sorry for last night, if we were better prepared I'd ride you to make up for it even more." She moved her mouth back on him and gagged a little when the head of his cock hit the back of her throat. Soon it was both his hands in her hair guiding her head up and down, making her take him all the way each time. She hollowed her cheeks and he came, shooting down her throat.

"Forgiven?" She whispered into the muscles of his abdomen.

He nodded and then looked at the clock on the table beside the bed, seeing that it was only close to seven in the morning. "God, we have a few hours left to sleep. Come back to bed."

She crawled back into his waiting arms and rested her cheek against her hand on his chest as an arm wrapped around her to rest on her hip.

The alarm on his phone went off after what had to have been only a few minutes and he groaned, pressing the warm body tucked against him closer. A groan came from the small figure as she blearily leaned up on an elbow, "do we have to?"

Rhysand followed, sitting up with his arms resting on his knees, as his almost purple eyes watched her crawl out of bed and look at her dress. It was nine forty-five and check out was at eleven, time to walk of shame it. He dressed in his slacks and button up, holding a hand out. "Sizes?"

She answered in shock, and as he disappeared out of the room she hopped in the shower. She might as well at least be clean of sweat and other fluids. When she got out of the shower she stood there, now what?

The door clicked shut as she walked the room wrapped in the plush white towel of the hotel. Rhys holds up a bag of freshly purchased clothes— and a bag of wonderful smelling food.

His violet eyes raked down her body and a shiver went up her spine, "are you hungry?" She takes the bag of clothes and he asks again.

"Not for food." Came the reply. And she wasn't, she didn't want to leave and go back to the real world. Back to him .

He set the food down on the table and sat on the sofa against the wall, eyebrows raised as he reclined, supposing he could pay for another night he called down to the front desk to extend their stay. His fingers worked to open his shirt as she dropped the towel and set of clothes, ignoring her wet hair against her back as she strutted over to him. He pulled Feyre between his legs to lean forward and run his lips across her abdomen, strands of his hair tickling her breasts. He nipped the undersides and pulled her closer to latch onto a nipple. Her fingers would tangle and untangle in his hair to press him closer, her hips rolled where she stood, body aching with want and the need she felt for this man. She wondered if him being so close he could smell her, if he knew how much she craved him.

She was moving then pushing him back as she stepped onto the cushions to lower herself onto his mouth and rolled her hips, amazed he let her do this— Tamlin never let her —she normally just laid there. While it was good at first it got old, but this, this with Rhysand was on a different level.

Far better than anything.

His hands cupped her ass and let her work herself against him, pale fingers reaching down to rub her swollen clit, fingers of her other hand tight on the back of the couch. It didn't take her long to come, a few moans that sounded like a cross between a whine and a grunt, and she was spent.

He lowered her down and pulled a box of condoms from the other shopping bag, "I had hoped."

"Well, good that we are on the same level." she moved enough so they could work his cock free and the condom on, then she was sinking down on him. Forcing her hips to roll slowly, Feyre was nothing more than a rag doll, his hands firm on her hips. "Rhys." Hands cupped his face as her damp hair clung to her, he forced her to bounce on him then. His cock penetrated her again and again, and with each thrust she leaned more into him attaching her lips to his.

Only on the way back did Feyre check her phone, so many calls and texts, all ones she ignored. Tamlin was furious with her, yelling once she got home. Yelling about how she made him look a fool at his company dinner, that if anyone knew she wasn't home sick, and how she had no right to ignore him all night and then leave the house before he got home.

Thankfully she remembered to put the ring back on before leaving the hotel.

It was the second time when she went out and saw Rhysand, heart hammering as she walked up to him. Feyre fully expected him to act like he didn't know her but instead a warm smile grew on his face and he ducked close as she whispered in his ear, "I'll buy one this time, if you want." It didn't take anymore prompting for them to be naked in a hotel room bed. For two nights, because they missed check out again, all purchased on her husband's card.

Two days of an ignored phone on both ends.

Rhys moved over her, in her, around her. Everything in that hotel room was him, her nails dug into his back and she pressed her forehead against his neck.

He entwined their fingers as they lay in bed, her face pressed against his chest, "tell me about yourself, Feyre Darling."

"What is there to tell? I was an art major and quit when I met my husband. He wanted me to stay home for children and housework." He tensed at that, at her words. "There aren't any children, I go in for shots, I won't give him any as if it's a responsibility on me to do that. Not something I want but what is expected."

"Then why stay?" His thumb stroked her cheek, he knew the answer before she even said it.

She didn't have one.

Her card was declined the next morning when she paid for breakfast and her face went red. Heating with shame as his long fingers held up his own card and she sheepishly took hers back. They regarded each other as he signed the receipt, "I guess someone didn't appreciate you using their money to pay for what you like."

A smirk as he held out a hand, "no issues, Feyre Darling. I don't mind, you can just think of other gifts to give me."

Angered, and feeling bold, when she made Rhys park a block down the street from her house Feyre unbuckled, hands going to undo his pants. Her lips wrapped around his cockhead and she sucked, moaning when he did and when his hand grabbed the back of her head. The nails of one hand dug into the seat under her as the fingers on the other wrapped tightly around him.

It was broad daylight and Feyre was moving her mouth along his cock like it was her sole reason for living. He hit the back of her throat and with a grunt overhead he came, spilling into her as she swallowed around him.

With neither a word or sound passing between them both Rhys reached up and wiped her bottom lip with his thumb. Her hand that was on his thigh moved down the front of her leggings to press two fingers against her clit. Her hiss broke off into a moan when he pressed his thumb against her tongue, his almost violet eyes trained on her own grey ones. They watched as color flushed her face even more, as her hips rocked a little into her own hand. He leaned over to run his lips across a cheek as she shifted, nearly over him in the front seat as two fingers on her most sensitive spot turned into three fingers sinking inside her.

"Rhys," her free hand tangled into his hair as she pressed her face into his shoulder. One arm wrapped around her as the other hand went to slide under her shirt to cup a breast. "Rhys."

"I'd take you back home with me, just say the words, darling."

With a yelp her body shuddered as her orgasm rocked through her, he didn't want to let her go— not yet. In what seemed like only seconds they pulled apart to right their clothing. With a lingering glance she slid out of the passenger seat and walked the block to her house. She hoped that he was just as disappointed as she was in herself for not turning around and getting back in the car. The house was seemingly quiet as she set foot through the door.

Tamlin's car in the driveway betrayed the idea that she was alone.

She softly closed the door and snuck passed the partially opened office door, "Feyre." Her foot came down hard on the first step and she paused, a good housewife would turn around and try to explain to her husband where she had been. About the charges on the credit card.

Instead she dug it out of her purse as she continued up to the bedroom, pinched between two fingers she tosses it over her shoulder. She didn't like taking advantage of Rhys but if he was more than willing to pay for everything right now then it would have to do.

"Are you not going to explain this?" Tamlin cornered her during dinner, the hotel purchases on their banking account from her card bright on the phone screen. "Who were you with?"

"Myself, I'm tired, Tamlin. I'm tired of sitting around this fucking hosue and not doing a goddamn thing." She dropped her fork continuing to glare at him from where he stood over her.

"Then paint!" He sighed, "how about we go to that painting class Alis talked about? Remember the little shop when we first got married? Let's go do one of those couples date adventures."

"Fine," she pushed away from the table, the next class he was free for wasn't for another two weeks but it would do. He followed her up the stairs to their room.

Five days passed before her phone lit up one afternoon— a text from a friend Clare, asking to go out. The clothes she left in were immediately swapped out as she hid between Calre's car and a dumpster behind a gas station.

"If you're that unhappy that you have to sneak around then leave. Leave him, Feyre." The woman shrugged after getting only a few details about her friend's unhappy marriage. She bit her bottom lip debating whether or not to tell Clare about Rhys— deciding on the latter of the two options.

"Though it looks like you're still getting it, you have a hickey the size of a quarter on your collarbone. And two more one on your neck and the other— oh that's a bite." A whistle from the driver as Feyre's face heats. The woman completely forgot about Tamlin actively bedding her the past couple of days, but with her phone so silent.

The low lighting in the club made her sequined red dress a deep purple as she moved across the floor, having lost Clare several minutes ago. The music was steady and with so many appreciative looks tossed her way she was— uncomfortable . Maybe she should have begged for them to go to the bar where she met Rhys. Especially if Clare was just going to abandon her the second they walked through the door. Her phone buzzed in her hand and she lifted it up reading the words on the screen from Tamlin asking if she would be home early.

Before a response was sent to her husband a notification popped up, an attachment. An attachment of her…

Ass?

It was her backside in the red dress, hair slightly curled between her shoulder blades. The caption read ' God, you look so good. ' Turning with her drink in hand she scanned the floor looking over the bodies, phone buzzing in her hand again. ' I wish to be your straw. '

A devilish smirk crossed her lips as she pushed her breasts together a little with an arm crossing over her midsection. Her red lips wrapped tightly around the straw as she drank.

' Stop teasing me with the straw, Feyre. '

The phone was silent before a glass was set down next to her, "from the gentleman over there." Down the bar Rhys leaned against the wood, eyes bright with unhidden want. She took both of her drinks after sliding her phone between her breasts.

"Hello," the smile was instant, "where have you been?"

"Meetings." He frowned a finger poking a spot on her neck. "I see I haven't been missed too much. Your husband doing his job now?"

Heat pooled in her stomach, "barely. I have to stay aware enough to not scream for you."

"That should be fixed," he took her hand and pulled them through the bar drinks forgotten as they headed to his car. Sitting in the passenger seat she shot a text to Clare about getting a ride home and to have fun.

"I think they're getting used to us," Feyre gasped out as lips attached themselves to her neck the second they were in a room. Tan fingers slid up the skirt of the tiny dress to reveal bare skin, a hum from his throat as Rhys' fingers worked her open.

He bent her over the edge of the king bed and dropped to his knees, waiting with bated breath she rolled her hips. Then that first touch of his tongue came— just not where she thought it was going to be. His fingers slid back into her cunt as his mouth worked on her ass.

Once he brought her to completion his slicked fingers worked their way to where his mouth was. Feyre jerked and moaned as he slid inside, "Rhys."

"Too much? Want me to stop?"

She shook her head pushing back against the two fingers in her.

"Good girl."

Her husband would have just done it she realized as Rhys waited, thumb rubbing small circles onto her skin. But as Feyre laid there and rolled over the idea in her mind Rhys was ever patient. The only demand he had given her was in the car— two to be exact: scream his name as long as they were together, and leave her wedding ring on. He wouldn't demand anything other than those two things and with a verbal agreement he was slowly inching his way inside her. It felt different, not bad and it became better as he rolled his hips. Each thrust becoming deeper and making her eyes roll back. As he fucked her and pulled her head back by a handful of hair did she scream his name like promised.

"I can only stay the night. I have a lunch meeting tomorrow afternoon, unfortunately."