Page 178 of Split or Swallow

Neither had she.

Caspen’s fingers skimmed gently up her back.

“Please, Tem,” he whispered. “Tell me I have not lost you.”

It was impossible to miss the desperation in his voice. But it didn’t matter, real⁠l⁠y, how Caspen felt. The only thing that mattered was what Tem was willing to do—how far she was willing to go for him.

“You haven’t lost me,” she whispered.

Caspen pressed a soft kiss to her neck. Then to her cheek. Then to her lips.

Tem kissed him back, forgetting everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours. She forgot how Leo had showed up at the Horseman—how he had come to her cottage—how he had touched her while she touched him back. She only knew this moment, right here, with Caspen.

They moved slowly at first, remembering the way the other felt. Tem undressed herself, enjoying the way Caspen watched her as she did so. He was still holding back—still waiting for permission to take things further. Tem was ready to give it.

Caspen.

Tem.

Touch me.

Caspen trailed his fingers slowly down her body, brushing them along the dip of her waist before pulling her beneath him. Tem tipped her knees open, and Caspen’s eyes immediately turned black.

So beautiful, Tem.

You always say that.

Because it is true.

Craving bloomed within her as Caspen slid two fingers deep into her center, all the way to his knuckles. Then he paused. They both stayed perfectly still, each of them watching the other. Caspen’s gaze traced over her body with boundless veneration.

Tem would never get tired of being looked at that way.

His fingers moved steadily in and out of her, warming her with each stroke. His other hand wrapped around her neck, arching her head back so he could bend down and kiss her throat. It felt so right to be connected to him like this: to move together as if they were never apart to begin with. Caspen understood her in a way no one else ever could; her body was an instrument only he could play.

Caspen waited until Tem was dripping with wetness before removing his fingers. His hand went to his cock, but he didn’t enter her. Instead, he said:

May I?

Tem found it significant that he had asked. She knew it was a gesture—a way to seek her forgiveness. He was asking permission to fuck her—begging for the privilege of being inside her. It made Tem feel powerful, and she liked that feeling.

Yes.

Even with her consent, Caspen still went slowly. He positioned himself between her legs, wrapping them around his torso one after the other. His eyes met hers as he finally entered her, sliding only an inch of his cock in before pulling back out. Tem moaned as he did it again, going just an inch further this time, holding himself back from everything she knew he dearly wanted to do.

More, Caspen.

He gave her more.

Tem gasped with relief as he filled her completely, and Caspen did the same. He was her home, and she was his. Their union was sacred. It was the truth.

Tem pushed Caspen so she could climb on top of him.

She wanted him to see every inch of her—to show him everything he needed permission to have. Caspen’s eyes were black with desire, any trace of gold completely gone. His skin was hot; it was nearly unbearable. Beads of sweat rolled between Tem’s breasts, pooling on Caspen’s torso. She dug her fingers possessively into his skin, claiming him for herself.

Touch me, Caspen.

He touched her.