Page 26 of Split or Swallow

“Breathe, Tem,” Caspen said.

She hadn’t realized she wasn’t.

Tem had no idea how Caspen could concentrate enough to instruct her at a time like this, especially when he was the one being pleasured. Eventually, he removed his hand.

Tem didn’t stop—she did exactly what she had seen him do to himself—rubbing in long, even strokes, speeding up when she sensed he wanted her to. It seemed like such a simple thing, and yet it had an extraordinary impact. Tem was amazed to see the effect on Caspen—to hear his breath quicken, to see a fine sheen of sweat bead up over his chest. In every way possible, she was affecting him, and she loved every moment of it. She had never been able to do anything like this to a man before, and up until last week, had only imagined she ever would.

It was intoxicating to be this close to him—so close she could smell the smoke on his skin. But it wasn’t like the smoke that curled from the pipes dangling from the mouths of drunk patrons at the Horseman. It smelled like the wildfires that sometimes burned the forest during summer—like the smoke that lingered on clothing after spending time around a campfire. It was deep and rich and layered, and Tem felt as if she were drowning in the smell.

Somewhere along the way, Caspen’s hands found her hips, pulling her even closer. Their faces were an inch apart; Tem could see the soft curve of his lips. With a jolt, she realized they still hadn’t kissed. The same hiss she had heard during her first night in the cave returned now. It filled the stone room, echoing around them in an endless loop, growing louder with every stroke.

“Faster, Tem.”

Maybe Tem was imagining it, but it didn’t sound like an instruction to her. It sounded like a plea—like he was begging her instead of telling her.

Tem went faster.

Caspen’s jaw was clenched, his fingers digging deep into her skin. His breath hitched with each stroke, and she knew he was close to finishing. But how to get him there?

She remembered the church—the way Vera had dipped into Jonathan’s lap. She remembered what Caspen had said about how the head was sensitive to a man.

So Tem leaned down.

Immediately, Caspen grabbed her by the chin, pulling her face up to his. His pupils were so wide they eclipsed the rest of his irises, reducing them to thin rings of gold. The effect was mesmerizing; Tem couldn’t have looked away even if she’d tried. It was as if his eyes had opened up a portal between them—as if they were pulling her in with a magnetic force she didn’t have the power to resist. She withdrew her hand, suddenly terrified.

“Was that wrong?” she whispered.

“No,” he said. “But you will learn one step at a time. Master this first.”

She nodded, half expecting him to reprimand her. When he didn’t, she wrapped her fingers tentatively around his cock again. His nostrils flared as she did it.

“Take me there with only your hand,” he commanded.

He was still holding her chin.

She began to stroke him again. He’d lost none of his hardness during the pause. If anything, he was even harder. She felt how firm he was—how utterly unyielding. It was addicting to hold this part of him, to know that she had the power to make him finish. She moved her hand steadily, alternating between slowing down and speeding up, doing her best to tease him toward the edge. She pumped as quickly as she could for several seconds, then suddenly stopped, squeezing the base of his cock with no warning. His head arched back with a groan, and without thinking, Tem pressed her lips to his neck. His skin was unthinkably warm—far warmer than it should be. She thought he might push her away. Instead, his hand tightened under her chin, holding her in place with inhuman strength. His other hand darted around hers, directing her final strokes. One—two—and on the third, he finished, his cum pouring into her palm in a warm, smooth handful.

“Kora,” he breathed. His lips were a centimeter from her ear.

She stared at the substance in her fingers. Just last night she had stared at it on his. His very essence. Tem couldn’t believe this was what had formed into the claw. She couldn’t fathom what kind of magic could turn a liquid into a solid. It was unheard of, even by basilisk standards. She wondered what other magic they possessed.

Caspen finally unlocked his fingers from around her neck, placing his palm over hers. The fire dimmed, there was a cool pulse, and when he removed his hand, her palm was dry. They sat for a moment in silence, and Tem realized how intertwined they were. She was practically straddling him, their faces level, their chests mere inches apart. All it would take was a shift of her hips to ride him. Before she could act on her impulse, Caspen’s hands wrapped around her waist. He lifted her off him, setting her gently back on the mat.

Tem wasn’t sure what to expect next. So when Caspen reached for the claw, her heart jumped to her throat. And when he turned to her, this time she knew she wasn’t imagining the ravenous anticipation in his eyes. He didn’t say a word. Instead he wedged his hand slowly between her thighs, coaxing them open with his fingers.

Then he grasped her hip with one hand and slid the thicker end of the claw inside her with the other. Not all the way—just enough to make her gasp, and as soon as she did so, he pulled it right back out. Tem bit her lip. A fevered moment passed. Then he slid it in again, slowly, working it in and out, over and over while she knelt before him. It was equal parts ecstasy and torture. Tem wanted so much more. She wanted him to ram the claw inside her, as far as it would go. She wanted him to toss it aside and ram himself inside her, faster and faster, until they both finished together. Instead she could only remain where she was, her breathing uneven and shallow, her hands gripping the mat as the claw filled her again and again.

Finally, it was too much. Tem felt her orgasm start to build and she knew if he kept going there would be no stopping it. She rocked her hips to match his rhythm, sliding herself forward to meet the claw, not caring how desperate she looked, not caring whether she was violating a boundary. She only cared about herself, and somehow, she knew that was all Caspen cared about too. His hand found its way to her neck again, pulling her face up to his, forcing her to stare into his mesmerizing eyes.

“It is time, Tem,” he whispered. “Come for me.”

“I’m—” she gasped.

Before she could complete the thought, she came for him.

Caspen’s hand contracted around her neck as she climaxed, squeezing just hard enough that her vision blurred. Then, just as quickly, he released her. Her gaze fell to his hand between her legs, and she watched as he rubbed her clitoris—just once, the absolute briefest of touches—before pushing the claw the rest of the way inside her. Tem gasped at the sudden fullness, her hips jerking forward to take as much of it as possible.

Caspen’s eyes met hers.