#13 claudmand?
oh ur MIND
13. …discreetly.
"But what about—"
"He doesn't need to know," Armand tells her, low and even. Smooth, like the skin of his palm where it brushes over Claudia's cheek. "This is the business of the coven. He is not in the coven."
And Claudia is a lot of things, but she isn't self-sabotaging. She doesn't feel the need to ruin something good by thinking about it too much. "Yeah, all right," she says, before tugging him closer by the hair none-too-gently. She'll be punished for her insolence later, she's sure, but for now there are more important matters at hand.
His mouth isn't a perfect fit where it slots against hers. If anything, it feels distinctly wrong. Like the wrong teeth are tugging at her bottom lip, the wrong tongue stroking her own. It only makes the whole thing hotter, makes desire pool between her thighs throbbing and insistent.
Armand must notice, or maybe he's just particularly enterprising, because the fingers of his other hand begin to skate up her leg and under the hem of her Baby Lulu dress. Instinctively, Claudia widens her stance, opens herself for him and grants him implicit permission even though he doesn't really need it. He could take it anyway, is powerful enough to do whatever he'd like to her, but she submits of her own accord. Because she wants it, wants this, wants to feel like she's a part of something.
He smirks against her mouth, sliding his hand higher. But obnoxiously, he stops his slow creep upwards just as he meets the apex of her thighs. Merely strokes his nails over the edge of her underwear, a gentle and repetitive motion that makes Claudia squirm. "Ask me for it." The softness of his voice makes it no less of a command.
"Please, Maître." Saying it is humiliating, and she can feel heat rising to her cheeks. It doesn't stop her. "Touch me."
He hums in feigned thoughtfulness. "Do you think you can keep your mind quiet?" he asks. "He's in the audience tonight, ready to watch your big debut. We wouldn't want him to hear."
"I can," she promises, voice high and thin. "Please."
Armand nods. "All right, then." He strokes his thumb directly over the fabric covering her, and pleasure sparks light and fizzy in her bones. However, he only repeats the motion twice more before he pulls away entirely.
Claudia is about to protest, to whine at the relentless tease of it, but then she realizes that Armand is lowering himself to his knees.
"In honor of your service," he says, tone playful, though there is an undeniable seriousness underlying the words. "And your continued loyalty to the coven."
And then his mouth is on her, and Claudia is too busy seeing stars to think about anything else.
