Page 15 of Split or Swallow
She withdrew her hand, embarrassed at her presumption.
“I did not tell you to stop,” Caspen said.
Tem stared at him. His pupils had grown wider; there was almost none of his golden irises to be found. It was like looking into the depths of darkness itself; there was only endless blackness. Tem knew, on an instinctual level, that they were entering uncharted territory.
Tentatively, her hand returned.
She went slowly at first, sliding two fingers in and out steadily, watching Caspen as he watched her. Then she went quicker, caressing the parts of her he would soon have access to, coaxing herself into something she couldn’t stop. She showed him how she liked it—doing what she did when she was alone in her room, after her mother had gone to bed, when the world was dark and the cottage was quiet, when she closed her eyes and pretended someone was watching her. She wanted Caspen to see her, truly, in the way she’d always wanted to be seen: as someone worthy of a man’s touch.
Eventually, the hiss returned.
Caspen’s gaze was unwavering. The fire reflected in the sheen of his skin, and Tem swore she saw the shadow of scales dappled over his chest.
She was already wet, but the sight of him made her wetter.
He was completely hard, his cock standing as erect as a soldier, his very nature defined by what was between his legs. She wanted him to give in. She wanted him to grab her, to thrust with impatient necessity, to collapse into her like a dying star.
But Tem knew that wouldn’t happen tonight. Caspen had said as much, and Tem respected that. The student would not override the teacher. Still, that didn’t mean they couldn’t share in this together—that he couldn’t show his commitment in another way, proving himself with an act of reciprocation. She hoped he might participate in her experience. And to her intense pleasure, he did.
Without a word, Caspen’s hand went between his legs.
He gripped himself and started to rub, his shoulders tensing with each long stroke, showing Tem what she would soon do. She couldn’t look away from his hand. It moved in a relentless rhythm, tightly at the base then smoothly over the top, rubbing consistently in long, steady motions, his breath hitching with each stroke.
Caspen went slowly at first, then faster and faster. Up and down, just like Vera had said. Any trace of hesitation was gone from his eyes as his basic instincts took over, his desire dominating every barrier between them. He arched his head, exposing his throat. The hiss was low, thrumming around them, enveloping Tem in its insistent frequency.
Then Caspen stood, looking down at her, his strokes quickening with urgent devotion.
Tem knew she wasn’t the first girl to be naked in this cave. She knew she wasn’t special, that there was nothing she could offer Caspen that he hadn’t seen before. Still, it felt as if this experience was unique to them, like he’d never looked at another girl this way, like she was the only one he would ever do this for. She wondered if it was true. She dearly hoped it was.
Suddenly, he stepped forward, and her breath caught in her throat.
For a moment, Tem thought he might break—that he might give in and mount her. Instead he leaned down, his other hand gripping the rock next to her head, his body positioned directly above her. His hand never stopped, and neither did hers. It was thrilling to see the way he touched himself. To know he was doing it because of her was beyond euphoric. She wished she could run her hands over him. She wanted to feel him against her palms, to understand who he truly was, to touch everything he was letting her see.
But he was impassable. The only way to connect with Caspen tonight was to do exactly what they were doing now. So Tem matched his pace, fingering herself to the same song, proving to him their rhythms were compatible, syncing her cadence with his.
With her other hand, she touched her breasts, squeezing and cupping them, making sure he knew what he could have if he wanted it. He was leaning so close she could feel the desperate gasp of his breath on her face. He stood between her legs, their bodies mere inches apart.
Tem wondered if he would think of her the next time he did this. Would he picture her, like she would surely picture him? Would he wish it was her hand instead of his, rubbing up and down, servicing him, encouraging what grew naturally? Or would he imagine her doing other things, like kneeling in front of him, taking him in her mouth, consuming him like she wanted him to consume her?
She wished she could taste him. She wondered if he would ever let her.
For now, his eyes traveled along her body, watching the way she moved, drinking in her naked skin like he needed her flesh to survive. Always, his eyes returned to what her hand was doing between her legs. Tem stared up at him, her back arched, exposing every part of her. She was completely defenseless, yet she felt irrefutably safe.
“Deeper,” Caspen said, his voice rough.
Pride surged through her. He approved. He wanted more.
But Tem wanted more too.
Instead of going deeper, she withdrew her hand, gripping her thighs and pulling them all the way apart, opening herself just for him.
“Won’t you do it?” she whispered.
He leaned down even further, lowering his face so it was directly over hers. He was so close to touching her, his chest an inch away.
Tem could smell smoke on his skin.
“You will do it,” he said, his voice a growl.
