Page 51 of Taken By the Shadow Prince

The smile he gives me is nothing short of demonic in its beauty. “By all means,” he says.

I give him a grin that rivals his own as I work his pants off his body, his underwear going next.

I don’t take it slow, instead I open my mouth and immediately swallow Armin whole.

Deep.

As deep as I can go on that first push without my eyes watering, at least. But there’s a lot of him, and to accommodate what’s left, I wrap one hand around the rest of his shaft and another gently at his balls, the barest amount of pressure against them.

He curses as I look up at him and stretches a hand out to grip the bedpost. His hips give a reflexive jerk as he slides more of himself into my mouth, and this time my eyes do water, but he lets out the softest of groans, as if holding himself back, and I lose it.

And byit, I must mean all sense of self preservation, because I remove my hand from his shaft and deepthroat him like it is my goal in life to choke on a demon dick.

I can confidently say that there are definitely worse things.

Armin gathers a fistful of my hair, a question in his eyes, in the way that he pulls my head back with that grip, showing me the power he has over my head now.

I run my teeth along the bottom of his shaft and carefully squeeze his balls in answer.Yes.Do whatever the fuck you want with me.

He certainly does.

Armin lets me worry about the hollowing my cheeks, about sucking, licking, swirling my tongue, while he creates a rhythm that has his knees buckling beneath him, that has the bedpost fuckinggroaningunder the weight of his grip, as if the wood is no match for the strength he has in that single fist.

I suppose you do not rule over cruel creatures for centuries on end without having that sort of power inside of you.

I can feel when Armin nears his climax, his motions becoming jerking, his breaths harsher. And I simply cannot pull my eyes away from his face, that clenched jaw, the sweat that beads his beautiful face and the overwhelming pleasure that mixes with something else I can’t quite make out swimming in his eyes.

Armin pushes himself down my throat, and my eyes tear up so much that they begin to slide down my cheeks as I moan and my hand reflexively tightens on his balls.

He comes down my throat, thrusting in and out as his dick twitches inside my mouth while he unloads, a grunt falling from his lips as he exhales, inhales, exhales even deeper.

My throat’s already feeling a little raw, sore, but as he pulls me to my feet and presses dozens of deep kisses to my lips, I know that I’ll be screaming his name in just a little while, anyway.

“You’re fucking fantastic,” he whispers against my lips. “Every goddamn thing about you was made for me, Mavey.”

It feels like a declaration.

He washes it away with another kiss as he works my dress off my body, and then I am naked before him, having had no reason to wear a bra with the beautifully constructed gown.

This seems to please Armin immensely, because he grins and spins us around, backing me up—not to the bed, but to the wall.

That will certainly do. I reach a hand down to Armin’s already mostly hardened dick and stroke it until he’s like stone, then let him hoist me up. I wrap my legs around his waist, feel him nudging against my clit, and gasp, my hands scrambling for purchase against his back.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, dropping his head to my shoulder before shaking it. “There’s got to be some fucked up reason why that feels so good, Mavey.”

“Please just fuck me,” I snap, my clit throbbing so much that I physically don’t think I can take it anymore. And his words... they certainly do not help.

“Anything for you,” Armin answers, the words sounding something like a promise before he angles us, thrusts, and pushes himself deep inside of me with that movement.

And with that single movement, we turn into fucking maniacs. There’s nothing about what we do that feels organized—it’s all chaos, designed to elicit the most pleasure out of each other, out of ourselves. I claw at his back, he slams into me so hard that my back will be bruised from hitting the wall so hard. I roll my hips on his dick, and he takes turns with my nipples, teasing each one of them into a sensitivity that has me screaming his name as he rolls his body against mine, as he manages to stroke my g-spot and rub my clit with his movements. His hands grip my ass, palming and massaging and working me so deeply that my head falls back and forward but never quite manages to hold itself up.

But it’s when Armin captures my mouth in a kiss that my body finally can’t take it anymore and comes around his cock. He climaxes, too, his hips moving as he rocks, working us both through it with satisfied grunts, then with lazy, tired kisses that I meet with my own mouth as he carries us to his bed.

He drops me down onto it, holds me to him as we catch our breath.

When I finally feel like I can speak, I say with a hoarse voice, “I’m going to go.”

“Come on, Mavey,” he breathes, blindly grabbing my arm as he closes his eyes. “Just sleep over.”

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