Page 42 of Taken By the Shadow Prince

I want to watch him devour me, but when Armin slips a second finger in with that first and slides both of them deep inside me, my head tips back and a moan looses from my lips. My hips start working on him, unable to hold myself back. He lets out a low hum of approval that reverberates through my whole body, those fingers scissoring, one of them pushing against the sensitive spot inside me.

And damn it if I’m not coming undone, quicker than I ever have before.

Armin’s mouth is all over me, drinking everything in as I cry out his name, my voice broken with sighs of relief. When I’m still, he sits up and pulls his shirt over his head before bringing his face to mine and pressing a soft kiss to my lips, teasing at the seam of my lips with his tongue.

I open for him. His mouth tastes like me.

And fuck if it doesn’t have me growing wet again, the thought of that. My hands go to the button on his pants and he helps me get them down his legs. I use my feet to slide them lower once my fingers can no longer get them off.

I palm him through his underwear without breaking the kiss, unwilling to warn him. His hips jerk and he curses, his breath sharpening. “Mavey,” he says, “If you keep doing that, I’m going to come even faster than you did.”

I grin against his lips, and his teeth nip at my tongue before he pulls his mouth from mine and then pulls his underwear off, his cock coming free and demanding attention. I’m tempted to ask if he’d like me to return his favor, but Armin’s already running his hand through my juices, then coating himself in me, lubricating the length as he strokes it.

I reach for it again, but he just chuckles and shakes his head. “I meant what I said,” he murmurs. “Besides, I think we can both agree this will be much more fun.”

Fair enough.

Armin slides an arm beneath my hips, and I help him lift me so that I’m bared to him, angled to give him the perfect sight. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he grins with a wickedness that doesn’t speak of his cruelties—no, it shows just how good he can be, how giving, in moments like these.

And then he sinks deep inside me.

I let out a sharp breath that quickly turns into a whimper. My hips circle and push down on him, and Armin groans, eyes shutting for the briefest of moments as a muscle in his temple pulses. “You feel so good, Mavey. Better than anything or anyone else.”

As he pulls back out, I say, “What an endorsement.”

“You don’t even know.”

Armin pushes back inside, quicker this time, rolling his hips as he goes to push himself in at a different angle. A loud moan leaves my throat as my walls clench around him, a tight grip that he curses at before giving a few short, sharp thrusts, as if he’s building into a rhythm, a pattern. He brings his hand to my clit, thumb pressing down, swiping at it, and I’m panting as I hold back the sounds that try to escape me.

“Let them out, Mavey,” he urges. “They’re my favorite things in the world.”

“Make me,” I breathe.

There’s a challenge in those words. Challenge that is reciprocated in his eyes.

Armin pulls out of me. Unhooks my legs from around his body and flips me onto my stomach. “Fine,” he says. “I suppose there’s nothing wrong with earning them.”

He positions me how he wants me, and I let him, moving easily with each helping hand that bends my body as he wants. I’m braced on my forearms and my ass is high in the air. Armin is positioned on his knees behind me.

He slams inside me without a word, and his hand resumes at my clit, fast, breathtaking movements that have me moaning through my scream as my body readjusts to the feeling of him inside me, clenching so that the further in he goes, the better it hurts.

Because it feels so, so good, that sharp pain mixed with the sensations he’s pulling out of me with my clit, my g-spot.

And my breasts sit so low that, as he pulls out and shoves back in, driving himself in harder, deeper, my nipples brush against the bed beneath me, setting them alive with friction.

I feel my body begin to weaken as I make noise after noise, unable to stop myself from giving Armin exactly what he wants.

I can feel how wild it makes him, with the erraticness it brings out in his movements, as if everything he does is on impulse, instinct now. There’s no pattern, no rhythm. Just our skin slapping together, our breaths and our noises, as he changes the angle each time, the hardness of his thrusts, the depth of them, with each thrust in and each slide out.

I know I’m close when my body begins to coil, when I’m unable to keep my hips from swirling, my back from arching and pushing my ass against him, desperate for more—for everything.

And I get it, with that next thrust, as he drives himself in and flicks my clit. As my nipples whisper against the bedspread, and my inner walls grip his cock. He gives three quick, barely there brushes of movement against my g-spot, and I’m done for.

I scream his name and drop my face into the mattress to keep it quiet so that no one outside of this room will be able to hear me. Armin works me through my climax, rolling his cock inside of me, until he releases, too, pumping inside of me, the grip he has on my hip increasing—not enough to leave a bruise, but enough to tell me about the sheer power in that body of his.

He slides out of me with heavy breaths and wraps an arm around me as he drops to the mattress, bringing me with him. “I take it you know how to make a tonic for... situations like these.”

“You don’t think this is a bad time to ask—after we’ve already fucked twice with nothing between us?”

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