CHAPTER THREE
The next morning at breakfast, her mother fixed her eggs, as always. Tem sliced an apple on the side, and set the honey pot at the table, the way she did every morning. Everything was as it had always been—everything was exactly the same. Except for Tem.
She was forever changed by her time in the cave. She’d laid in bed all night, wide awake, replaying everything that had happened. She remembered what she saw when Caspen dropped his trousers. She remembered what it felt like to touch herself, to see Caspen grow hard at the sight of her, to finish in front of him.
Tem tried to eat, but could not. The moment she raised her spoon, the claw pulsed, and she gasped.
When it pulses, you will know I am thinking of you.
The thought was like dewy grass on a spring morning. She could imagine nothing better than knowing she was on Caspen’s mind. She wished desperately for another pulse—she wanted him to think of her again—to think of her continually until they were reunited that evening.
But another pulse didn’t come.
Tem’s heart sank. Was that all she was worth to him? A single pulse—nothing more? What if it had been an accident, and he hadn’t been thinking of her at all? Shame flushed her cheeks, and she turned back to her plate.
Breakfast passed in silence. Tem knew her mother was dying to ask about her time in the caves, but every time she opened her mouth, Tem shot her a glance that made it clear she didn’t want to talk. She couldn’t possibly tell her what had happened. She’d need to come up with a story that didn’t involve her completely crossing every boundary the training was supposed to have in place.
In the meantime, it was Sunday, which meant the entire village went to church.
As Tem climbed the church steps, she looked at the stone statues of the gods—the ones whose anatomy was so staggeringly inferior to Caspen’s. If these were the gods, then what did that make him?
They were late, and the church was already full. Tem followed her mother to the back row, sliding into the pew after her. When she sat on the hard wooden bench, the claw pressed against her insistently. She was immediately warm between her legs, and wished she was alone. She had to sit delicately, her thighs tensed on the hard wooden bench, her hands gripping her knees.
“Something wrong, my dear?” her mother asked.
Tem shook her head. There were no words for the experience.
“Nothing, mother.”
She looked around the church, trying to locate Gabriel as a way to distract herself. He was sitting at the end of their row, his arm around a boy who was decidedly not Peter. She couldn’t help but smile.
The service began. They prayed to Kora, goddess of fertility. The royals were the ones who had chosen her as their guiding light, their north star. It was Kora’s benevolence that influenced the training, that blessed the girls with fertility, that ensured the prince would bear a male heir. It was in Kora’s name that Tem was to offer her body as an option for the prince. Kora was a mother to all, and it was said she visited all new mothers the night before they gave birth to bless them with a safe delivery. Tem wasn’t sure she believed it. There were plenty of women who died in childbirth. The queen herself, for instance. Everyone knew that the prince had grown up without a mother. Had Kora forgotten to visit her?
It was halfway through the service when the first pulse came.
Before Tem had a chance to catch her breath, a second one quickly followed. But this couldn’t be happening right now. Not now, not next to her mother, not in church. Sitting still was impossible. Tem clutched the pew with both hands, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to control her breathing.
Another pulse came, and Tem let out the tiniest whimper.
Do not make a sound.
Tem froze. The voice was Caspen’s, and it had come from inside her mind. But how was that possible? Before she could wonder further, another pulse came, this one so strong that Tem had to grab the pew in front of her to keep from crying out. Her mother looked over with a frown.
“Cramps,” Tem mouthed.
Her mother nodded.
It was the only thing she could think of to explain the way she was leaning forward, trying desperately to find a way to sit that didn’t accentuate the pulses, which were coming in increasing frequency. There didn’t seem to be any pattern to them. They varied in intensity and duration, sometimes quick and sharp, sometimes slow and lingering, each one leaving her more breathless than the last. They were so chaotic that Tem almost wondered if they were accidental. She couldn’t believe the basilisk was thinking about her at all, much less thinking about her for this long. Tem looked around for something—anything—to distract her.
Her eyes landed on Vera.
She was at the end of a pew, leaning against Jonathan. Her shoulder looked like it was twitching, her arm jerking up and down in a steady rhythm. Whenever she sped up, Jonathan’s head would roll back, and every time it did, Vera’s shoulder would stop moving. Then it would resume a moment later with renewed vigor.
With a jolt, Tem realized what she was watching.
Tem looked around in bewilderment. Surely someone would see—surely someone would notice. But Vera and Jonathan were at the very end of a nearly empty pew, at an angle that hid Jonathan’s lap. Anyone who glanced at them wouldn’t know she was pleasuring him. Tem only knew because she knew Vera, and also because she was so painfully turned on from the pulses that she felt as if she had suddenly acquired some inhuman ability to spot sexual activity from a mile away.
Whether out of sick fascination or latent jealousy, Tem couldn’t look away. The pulses seemed to sense her arousal, somehow syncing to the motion of Vera’s arm. They were purposeful now; Tem had no doubt that Caspen was thinking of her, and he must know she was thinking of him. The pulses were building, building, building—even as the rest of the church started to sing a hymn, Tem couldn’t join in. All she could do was stare at Vera’s arm pumping up and down, imagining it was her arm instead, imagining it was Caspen’s cock instead of Jonathan’s.
Tem clamped her mouth shut as the final pulse came.
But it was impossible not to cry out. The hymn had reached a crescendo, and so had Tem, and just as the final note ended, Tem watched as Vera’s head dipped beneath the pew, remained in Jonathan’s lap for a brief moment, then rose again. She licked her lips in triumph.
The pulses lingered, drawing a residual moan out of Tem, which she didn’t bother trying to silence. She was so wet she could only hope it hadn’t soaked through her dress.
“Someone wants you.”
Her mother’s voice tore Tem from her trance.
“What?”
“I said, someone wants you,” her mother pointed to the end of the pew, where Gabriel was waving at her.
“Oh. Right.”
The hymn was over. People were starting to leave.
Tem stood with the rest of the crowd, filing toward the aisle, where Gabriel was waiting.
“Well?” he said when she reached him, hooking his arm into hers. “Are you a changed woman?”
Tem had no idea how to reply. She could feel her wetness dripping down her legs, and felt a sudden kinship with Jonathan.
“Yes,” she said honestly.
“Delightful,” Gabriel squeezed her arm. “Tell me everything.”
“Not while we’re in church.”
It was an empty protest. Nothing that had happened in the past hour had been appropriate for church.
“Oh, come on, Tem. Kora would be proud. She’d want you to give me all the juicy details.”
Somehow, Tem believed him. Of all the deities, surely the goddess of fertility wouldn’t object to anything related to sex. But still. Her mother was mere feet away, and Tem wasn’t about to talk about this anywhere near her.
“I have a couple roosters to deliver. Meet me at the square in an hour?”
“With bells on,” Gabriel gave her a mock salute before disappearing into the crowd.
Tem tried to act as normal as possible as she followed her mother home, but between the claw inside of her and the wetness on her thighs, she was beginning to feel like a walking sin. The moment they were inside, Tem ran to the bathroom and immediately took a cold bath. As she washed her body with soap, she couldn’t help but wonder what Caspen was doing right now. Had he climaxed, like she had? Was he still thinking of her? Did the claw only pulse when his thoughts were sexual, or would it pulse if she crossed his mind at all? What did basilisks do in their free time, anyway? Tem tried to imagine Caspen at his version of church, sitting in a pew like she just had been. Did basilisks worship Kora, like the humans did? Or did they have gods of their own?
Tem toweled off and dressed quickly, heading to the coop to gather the roosters.
Ever since it was discovered that the crow of a rooster could kill a basilisk, each household in the village was granted one rooster to be kept as a form of protection against the snakes, in the event that they breached the mirrored wall. Despite its life-saving properties, the roosters were not welcome gifts. A dead weasel was preferable for most people, especially since dead weasels didn’t make any noise. Nobody wanted to wake up to incessant crowing at the crack of dawn, and for many families, the roosters ended up as dinner. When that happened, Tem was tasked with replacing them.
By the time Tem had corralled the roosters and grabbed two dozen eggs for the bakery, nearly an hour had passed and she had to rush to meet Gabriel at the square.
He was waiting under the clock tower, leaning jauntily against the bricks. He straightened when he saw her.
“Finally. Thought you’d forgotten about me.”
“Never,” Tem said as Gabriel took the basket from her arms. “You’re unforgettable.”
“Of course I am. Now give me details.”
Tem told him everything that had happened in the caves, including how she had touched herself in front of Caspen, and he had done the same. The only thing she left out was the claw. Caspen had said not to tell anyone, and she had no desire to disobey him. Besides, it felt nice to have a secret, even if it was a small one. Tem’s life had been so uneventful for so long that the prospect of keeping something from Gabriel was oddly thrilling. He’d had plenty of nights that she knew nothing about; now she had one of her own.
“Caspen sounds delicious.”
“He’s a basilisk, Gabriel. He’s terrifying.”
“Terrifyingly delicious.”
If he wasn’t carrying her basket for her, she would’ve shoved him.
“He’s the Serpent King. His girls are always chosen. You don’t understand the pressure I’m under.”
“Tem. It’s good that you’re with the Serpent King. Imagine if you’d gotten a boring old basilisk with no talent whatsoever.”
“I wouldn’t care.”
“Oh, yes you would. I know you. You’d be whining about how you’re with a boring old basilisk instead of one that knew what he was doing. Admit it. It’s better this way.”
Tem scowled. Gabriel was right, and they both knew it. Regardless of her mother’s ambitions for her, Tem was participating in the training for her own selfish reasons, and those included getting as good at sex as possible just to prove to herself that she could do it. Like it or not, Caspen was the easiest route to that goal.
At the thought of sex, the claw pulsed.
Tem froze. They were in the middle of the road, in broad daylight. There was nowhere to hide if Caspen decided to send her anything else.
Gabriel stopped, looking back at her. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing,” Tem said. “Cramps.”
“Ah,” Gabriel nodded knowingly, “Woman troubles.”
“Something like that.”
She stood still for just a moment longer, but to her relief, another pulse didn’t come.
The rooster delivery was uneventful, and Tem was thankful Gabriel was there. People in the village liked him; they tolerated her. Gabriel had always protected Tem to the best of his abilities, but he was a year older than her, and hadn’t always been around when they were in school. He hadn’t been able to stop the schoolyard bullies from chanting “Chicken shit girl”, but he had always been there to wipe her tears on the way home.
By the time they reached the bakery, Tem wished he could do that delivery as well. But she knew Gabriel’s shift was about to start, and he kissed her on the cheek with a flourish before heading up the hill to the castle. Gabriel worked as a dishwasher in the castle kitchens, a job that gave him unending access to the stable boys. Which was just the way he liked it.
With a heavy sigh, Tem turned toward the bakery.
“So,” Vera said shrilly. “How was it?”
Once again, Vera was leaning conspiratorially over the counter. Only this time, everything was different. This time, Tem was no longer the girl who had never seen a naked man. Between her experience in the cave and presence of the claw inside her, the last twenty-four hours had been life-changing, plain and simple. But she couldn’t say that out loud. Vera was such an insufferable blabbermouth that the entire village would know every detail by the time the sun had set.
So Tem settled on her usual strategy, which was to ask her something in return:
“How was it for you?”
“It was thrilling,” Vera gushed, leaning forward. “My basilisk wants me. I can tell.”
“What makes you think that?”
“The way he looked at me.”
“Mine looked at me too,” Tem said.
“Of course he did. That’s what they’re supposed to do.”
Tem set her jaw.
“He looked at me for a long time.”
Vera sneered. “Well, so did mine. Forever, practically. And by the time he was done, I was wet. I’m sure he could sense it.”
Tem had nothing to say to that.
“And that wasn’t all,” Vera continued.
Tem stiffened. Was she about to say that her basilisk had touched her? Kissed her? Done something beyond what Caspen had done with Tem? She braced herself, ready to hear confirmation that she had somehow messed things up already, that Vera was further along in the training after just a single night in the caves.
“He told me that I’m the prince’s type. Apparently, he wants a curvy girl,” her eyes raked snidely over Tem. “A girl like me.”
Tem felt her anger flare.
“Caspen said that I—”
“Caspen?” Vera hissed, her face pinched with sudden jealousy. “He told you his name? Mine didn’t tell me his. He didn’t even touch me.”
“Mine didn’t touch me either,” Tem admitted. But she left out the part where he’d undressed for her, as she had for him. She left out the part where he’d touched himself, and she’d done the same. And she certainly left out the part where he’d given her a piece of himself, and that piece was inside her right now.
“Well, why would he?” Vera snapped.
Tem shrugged. The words hurt, but the hurt was alleviated by the pulse between her legs, and she wondered whether Caspen had felt her pain. She closed her eyes, focusing on the sensation. It was gentle at first, then more insistent. Tem couldn’t help but smile; he was teasing her, the pulses lasting longer than usual.
“And what, exactly, are you smiling at?” Vera interrupted her thoughts.
Tem’s eyes flew open.
“Nothing,” she said, stifling her expression and brandishing the basket. “Here’s your eggs.”
Vera huffed away, making a big show of retrieving Tem’s payment before handing it over.
“I guess I’ll see you tonight,” she said.
“You sure will,” Tem replied.
She left the bakery with a spring in her step. For the first time in her life, an interaction at the bakery hadn’t left her in tears. Not only that, she still had one more card to play with Vera: as soon as she found out that Tem was with the Serpent King, she’d be so jealous she might actually respect Tem enough to leave her alone.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of farm chores. Tem went through the motions mechanically, cleaning out the chicken coop on autopilot. She couldn’t think of anything but tonight. How would the basilisk greet her? Would they talk about the pulses he had sent during church? Would they finally touch? Kiss? More?
The claw didn’t pulse for the rest of the day, and Tem’s heart was pounding by the time night fell and she joined the line of girls headed for the caves.
Her mother didn’t escort her this time; she simply clasped her hands in hers, ran her fingers over Tem’s freckles, and kissed her on the forehead before ushering her out the door.
When they reached the end of the trail, Tem was sick with anticipation. All she could think about was what might happen tonight. She could do nothing but put one foot in front of the other, and by the time she entered the cave, the pain in her chest was borderline unbearable.
There was Caspen, standing calmly in the center of the room. Tem’s heart only beat faster as he closed the distance between them.
“Tem,” he said quietly, and she remembered the deep smoothness of his voice. “How are you?”
“Oh,” she said, clearing her throat. “I’m great. How are you?”
He smiled, baring his teeth, but didn’t answer. Instead, he nodded at a roughly hewn fireplace built straight into the stone wall. A thick mat had been laid out in front of it.
“Come,” he said. “Let us begin.”
Tem followed him to the mat. Just like last time, he splayed his hands and said:
“Whenever you are ready.”
This time Tem didn’t demand that he undress first. Instead, she pulled her clothes off slowly, letting them drop to the ground in an easy pile. Caspen watched her, his mouth still tilted in a smile. He wasn’t even touching her yet, but Tem could feel his power from here. Without a word, he undressed too, and once again she let her eyes wander over his infuriatingly perfect body. Gabriel was right. Caspen was delicious.
Tem felt the same surge of power when she saw he was already on his way to being hard. It was incredible knowing he was hard because of her. It felt like the most intoxicating thing in the world to have this effect on him—to finally be perceived by someone other than her mother and Vera—someone who mattered.
“Lie on your back,” Caspen said.
She did so.
“Open your legs.”
She did so, and he kneeled between them, pulling her thighs around his so he was centered above her. Even though this wasn’t the first time she’d been exposed in front of him, it was the first time he had touched her, and the second his skin met hers, Tem felt a jolt of energy so strong that even though she tried to calm her heartbeat, it would not be soothed.
The claw was still inside her, and Caspen caressed the tip of it with his finger. He wasn’t touching her yet—just the claw—but he was so close that Tem could feel herself getting wet just from the thought.
“Did you enjoy what I sent you?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” she nodded, hoping he would send another pulse right now. But he didn’t. Instead, he slid his finger along the curve of the claw and pulled it out in a single, smooth motion.
Tem gasped at the sudden emptiness.
Caspen set the claw aside, his expression unreadable. His hands returned to grip her thighs, pulling her even closer. Tem had never felt so vulnerable.
He paused.
Tem had absolutely no idea what to expect, and briefly debated asking what they were about to do. Thankfully, Caspen spoke before she had the chance to:
“In order to understand a man’s body, you must first understand yours,” he said, his eyes tracing over her. “Do you know your own anatomy?”
Tem felt her inexperience once more rear its head.
“I’m… not sure what you mean,” she whispered.
Caspen extended his fingers, trailing them gently up her thighs. When he reached the center of her legs, he touched the most sensitive part of her, brushing against it with his fingertip. Tem had only touched that part herself, and now that Caspen was doing it she feared she might go slightly insane.
“I mean,” he continued, “do you know what this is called?”
“No,” Tem managed to say, and it was the truth.
“A clitoris.”
Tem had no idea it had a name. She knew it only as the part she teased just before she was about to finish—the part that the tapered end of the claw pressed against, which throbbed with pleasure whenever Caspen sent a pulse.
“The prince may play with it,” he said.
“Play with it?”
“Yes. Like this.”
Caspen applied pressure with his finger, the veins in his arm flexing suddenly as he rubbed her clitoris hard. Tem cried out in surprise and pleasure. She could barely think, much less speak.
Yet she felt the need to say:
“Am I to be played with?”
Caspen withdrew his hand. The sudden absence of his fingers left her cold. He leaned in, and Tem flinched at the hardness in his eyes.
“You are to do exactly what the prince wants. If he wants to play with you, you will let him. If he wants to do anything at all, you will let him.”
His words were harsh, and Tem knew they were the truth. She was not the one with the power—she was here for the prince’s pleasure, not the other way around.
“Right,” she whispered. “Sorry.”
Caspen’s expression softened.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
His fingers returned to her clitoris, and for a moment, all he did was touch her. Tem felt the familiar stirring of desire rear its head, and she wished she could sit up and touch him too. She wondered if Caspen wanted her to. He was clearly hard, but she had no idea whether that meant he was actually enjoying himself since he didn’t stroke his cock like he did last time. He only touched her, and although it felt amazing, she desperately wanted more from him.
As soon as she thought it, he slipped two fingers all the way inside her.
Tem gasped. Caspen’s eyes flicked to hers. If she didn’t say something, she was going to moan, and that seemed inappropriate given Caspen’s silence. So she said:
“Does that have a name too?”
Tem’s mother had always called it her “womanhood”, which was decidedly vile. Vera called it her “flower”, which was even worse.
If Caspen thought the question was weird, he didn’t say so, instead answering calmly:
“Pussy. Vagina. Cunt. You can call it whatever you like.”
The words were bizarre. Tem couldn’t fathom calling it any of them.
“What do you like to call it?”
The corner of his mouth twitched.
“Pussy,” he said simply.
Tem wondered what the prince liked to call it.
“Do you like that?” Caspen murmured, cutting off her thoughts.
“Yes,” Tem said.
“Good,” his fingers went deeper. “It is only the beginning of what you will experience.”
Tem couldn’t imagine anything more than this.
“It is my job to teach you what to expect,” he continued.
She nodded, although she wasn’t listening. What he was doing felt so good she couldn’t think straight—it was as if someone had poured honey into her brain, and all she could taste was sweetness. It felt as if every molecule in her body was on fire—like he was stirring the edges of her into a singular, perfect shape. It was different from the pulses, which were cerebral—reverberating and lingering in her body like electrical surges. His fingers, on the other hand, were undeniably physical, forcing her to stay in the present and notice exactly what was happening right here, right in this moment.
Now that Caspen was touching her, Tem felt suddenly jealous that anyone else had shared this experience with him. She wanted to ground him in the moment—to remind him that it was her that he was touching, and nobody else.
“You’re so…” Tem could barely get the words out. “…good at this.”
Caspen let out a small laugh.
“As I should be.”
“Will it feel like this with the prince?”
Maybe she was imagining it, but she swore Caspen frowned. His words were clipped as he answered:
“He has had anyone he wanted his entire life. So he is familiar with a woman’s body.”
Tem felt her stomach flip. Even though Caspen was teaching her—and touching her—she still felt like she would be clueless when she finally faced the prince. How could she possibly compete with girls like Vera, who had touched and been touched by boys many times before? It was unfathomable. She couldn’t hope to compare.
As these thoughts were thundering through her head, Caspen had drawn away.
“Sit up,” he said.
Tem did so, her brown eyes on his golden ones. His skin was glowing in the firelight, as if the blaze originated from inside his body.
“Give me your hand,” Caspen said.
Tem held out her hand and he took it in hers. He touched the tips of her fingers against the end of his cock.
“Do you know what this part is called?” he asked.
“No,” she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. He was so hard she was having trouble concentrating.
“It is the head,” he said. “See how it curves?” he brushed her fingers over its tip. “It is sensitive to a man.”
Tem felt the smooth dome. It was shaped like a mushroom, and just as soft.
“Like a clitoris,” she said.
Instead of answering, his grasp on her fingers loosened, which Tem took as tacit permission to explore.
Slowly, she trailed her fingers down the shaft of his cock, feeling every vein and ridge of his intimidating length. She brushed her fingertips all the way from the base to the head, then back down again. She touched even lower, cupping his balls in her hand, filling her palm with them and squeezing gently. Once again, she was struck by the inaccuracy of the statues at church. If that depiction of manhood was to be believed, balls were three quarters of the package.
Caspen watched her as she touched him, completely unfazed. He didn’t seem to be in any sort of hurry, content to simply let her explore him at her own pace. She supposed that nothing surprised him at this point—he must’ve seen everything there was to see in his students over the course of centuries of teaching.
Tem, on the other hand, was very fazed.
Caspen was the only man she had seen naked in person. And technically, he wasn’t even a man. Even so, she felt quite sure that other men couldn’t possibly be equipped the way Caspen was. She placed two fingers tentatively along his length. Two fingers was what she used to touch herself, and Caspen’s cock was worrisomely longer and thicker than that. She literally couldn’t imagine it inside her.
“It will fit,” Caspen said quietly. Her eyes flicked up to his. “If that is what you are worried about.”
“Oh,” she said. “Well, that’s…good.”
He tilted his head. “You do not believe me.”
“No, I—” she pulled her hand away in embarrassment. “—it’s just…”
Caspen leaned forward.
“What is it, Tem?”
He was looking at her with genuine curiosity, which she found rather unnerving. It was overwhelming to have those intense golden eyes on her, and Tem felt her face flush under his gaze.
“It seems like it’ll hurt.”
His expression softened. He leaned in even further, and she felt the temperature of the air rise between them.
“I will make sure it does not. Your first time may be difficult, but you have nothing to fear.”
Tem bristled at his assumption that it would be her first time. Even if he was right.
“I’m not scared,” she said sharply.
But she didn’t know if that was true. All she could think about was how Vera had been having sex for years. How was it that Tem was so far behind? She squared her shoulders.
“Teach me how to touch you.”
The words were not a question, and at them, Caspen’s expression shifted from something like mild curiosity to…pride. But that couldn’t be right. Before Tem had time to identify it properly, the basilisk took her hand in his, wrapping her fingers around his cock so they held it together. Then he guided her hand first up and then down, rubbing the shaft from base to tip just one single time, as if to show her how the motion would go. Then he squeezed their hand tighter and increased the pace, stroking in a steady, quick rhythm. Tem knew this was what Vera had done with Jonathan under the bridge, and in the pew. But Tem couldn’t imagine that Jonathan’s cock looked anything like Caspen’s.
“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 teaching 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 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 gently, setting her back on the mat.
Tem wasn’t sure what to expect next. So when Caspen reached for the claw, her heart leapt in 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.
There was nothing to say, so neither of them spoke. But Tem felt an overwhelming understanding sweep over her like a tidal wave. In it, she felt Caspen’s satisfaction as if it were her own. His approval was undeniable; he was looking at her like he wanted to devour her, like she was the single most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
A moment later, the look was gone.
Tem watched as his pupils shrank, the blackness receding. It was only when his eyes were once again gold that Caspen finally said:
“Shall we eat?”