Page 27 of Taken By the Shadow Prince

The intention behind his words is clear. And it makes me wonder if he’s been catching onto my thoughts, the ones that have rattled inside my brain all day. From waking up this morning, sharing breakfast with him and his disheveled hair that only tempted me to run my fingers through it, that grin and those lips that look like they can do so much more than smile and speak...

I should scowl, should ignore him and turn away. Perhaps go check out the view beyond those windows or the books in the other room, but instead, I say, “I could use a distraction right now, actually.”

I’m not sure where it comes from, those words.

I’ve never been the kind to try my hand at flirting, even when Ihaveasked men into my bed. I’m usually far more direct, far simpler. I usually prefer to use as few words as I can. But I find that I like teasing him, and that I don’t want to take it back, especially as Armin’s eyes drop to my lips, then lower, trailing down the length of my body and then back up to my eyes slowly, lighting a fire wherever they go. He says, “I can’t decide if you’re joking or not.”

“Not.”

He swallows. Opens his mouth, just to snap it shut quickly and run a hand down his face, as if he can’t quite decide what to do or what to say. Before, finally, he settles on, “Is that what you want?”

The question takes me by surprise.

I nod, though. Yes, this is what I want. Because, really, if I’m going to be stuck with Armin for five years, then there are worse ways to spend that time than having what I can only imagine being very good sex, right? “Yes,” I say, when he still hasn’t moved.

And then his mouth is on mine. He must have shiftstepped to me, because I didn’t see him move at all before his lips press against my own. Hard, demanding kisses that trail into soft, teasing ones, and then back. I’m sure my lips will be swollen after this.

Armin brings one arm to my waist, holding me to him, and the other up to the base of my neck. The touches feel possessive, like staking a claim.

It pisses me off.

It makes me a live wire.

His tongue teases against my lips, and I open for him as I press my body into his, bringing my hands up to his hair. It’s softer than I’d thought it would be.

His hand at my waist starts brushing fingers at the hem of my shirt, urging it up higher and higher with each kiss before he finally breaks his mouth away from mine and lifts my shirt completely off my body. His hands don’t break contact with my skin until he tosses the shirt to the ground, and then they’re right back on me, eyes devouring every curve he just exposed.

I reach around to my back and undo the clasps of the bra I wear and let it fall from my shoulders, then lift his shirt off. Armin smiles at me, eyes full of something molten as he says, “Not feeling very patient, are you?”

My answer comes in the form of my hands on the button of his pants. I undo them with swift fingers. Armin chuckles and takes a step away before I get the chance to pull them off his body. “Let’s not rush this, darling. What would be the point?”

I can’t tell if the nickname is meant to be condescending or not, but it has me boiling, anyway. Boiling with desire, with need.

I glare at him anyway and turn my attention to my own pants, shoving them down my legs and stepping out of them, shoes coming off inside the pant legs.

Armin chuckles. “You think you’re being defiant, don’t you?” His eyes blaze as they devour every inch of exposed skin; the only thing I wear now is my underwear, but it doesn’t do anything at all to hide my body, nor how aroused I am, how wet I am between my thighs.

He walks back over to me, presses himself so firmly against my body that the bulge of him presses against my navel before he pushes me backward onto the bed. His thumbs hook into my underwear and pulls them down my legs before I can even blink, and I gasp as the cool air meets my sensitive skin at my core, as his hands slide up the inside of my legs and push my legs apart, exposing me to him.

Armin groans as he drops to his knees in front of the bench at the foot of the bed, then slides me forward until I’m right in front of him, this angle baring me wholly to him. He says, “I’m willing to bet that you taste so good, Mavey.”

My breaths come faster, and it’s an effort to keep my hips still.

Armin dips his head and devours me. His tongue sweeps from one end to the other, drinking me in before he latches onto my clit and sucks. I moan loudly, and my thighs struggle to stay open. I can feel him smiling against me as he brings one hand to each leg and holds them apart.

His tongue explores every bit of me as he slowly works down to my entrance. He just barely teases it before pulling away and saying, “I was right. You’re the best meal I’ve ever had, Mavey. Honest.”

His words have me moaning again, and he smiles up at me before dropping back down between my legs and taking everything I give him. My hips move on his face as he circles my entrance with his tongue, and one of his hands trails from my leg to my clit, brushing and flicking at the bud as I pant, desperate to feel more, to feel everything.

And then he switches, and his finger stretches my entrance as his mouth sucks at my clit again. I whimper, my hips still swirling, working into a rhythm with him, his fingers.

When he pushes it in, he bites down so very carefully on my clit, and I cry out, the sensation so unexpected, so deliriously good that I immediately want him to do it again.

And he does. A little harder this time, still just enough to tease that pleasure just far enough. He slides two fingers inside of me then, pushing them in so deep that they brush against that special spot inside of me, and I come undone.

Armin laps at me like it’s his goal to take my orgasm from me, my hips undulating on his face, working me through the aftershocks, desperate sounds leaving my lips.

And when I’ve finally stilled, Armin chuckles and pushes me back up onto the bed. I watch as his hands shove his pants down, his underwear, and I force myself to pull my eyes away from his impressive, hardened length as he says, “You’re awfully loud for a girl who’s usually so silent, Mavey. I rather like it.”

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