Filed To Story: Spit or Swallow: Kiss Of The Basilisk
“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.
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?”
In the rush of the last few minutes, Tem had nearly forgotten that the basilisk had promised to feed her after their sessions. She nodded, still numb from everything that had just happened.
Caspen stood, pulling on his trousers. “Wait here. I shall return shortly.”
He disappeared into the shadows, and Tem used the time to dress.
Some minutes later, Caspen returned holding a tray. He crossed to the mat, sitting beside her and setting the tray between them. The food was fancy-far fancier than anything Tem was used to at home. There were candied nuts and dried fruits, cheeses, thin cuts of meat, raisin bread, and small chocolates. This was luxury beyond the simple stews her mother made, and Tem was almost afraid to touch it.
“Is it sufficient?” Caspen asked. He was looking at her as if waiting for her approval.
“Oh-yes,” Tem said quickly. “Thanks.”
“Of course.”
He was still looking at her.
“Won’t you have some too?”
Caspen raised an eyebrow. “Would you prefer I did?”
“Yes. It’s no fun to eat alone.”
He chuckled quietly, and Tem savored the sound.
“As you wish.” He gestured at the tray. “But please, you first.”
Tem reached for the bread tentatively, aware of his eyes watching her. The basilisk waited until she took a bite before taking one himself, and for a minute, they ate in silence.
Finally, Caspen said, “You are afraid of me.”
It wasn’t a question. Tem looked up at him. She’d denied it when they first met, but now it seemed pointless to do so. “How can you tell?”
“I can sense it.”
“But how?”
He looked at her, his mouth tilting up. “Your heartbeat.” He leaned forward, brushing the tips of his fingers gently across her chest. “It is irregular. And you flinch when I touch you.”
Tem blushed. “I don’t mean to flinch.”
Caspen shrugged. “It is a natural reaction. I am not offended.”
Tem nodded, although she wasn’t sure she believed him. Her mother’s warning was still fresh in her mind. “I…like it when you touch me,” she said quietly.
The basilisk smiled fully, baring his teeth in the flickering firelight. It was a feral smile-one of triumph and victory. “I know you do.”
Tem wanted to ask if he liked it when she touched him. But she was far too nervous to do so. Instead, she said, “I suppose you can sense that too?”
He leaned back on the mat, tilting his head to look up at her. “It would take an imbecile not to sense that.”
Tem felt herself blushing again. Was she so obvious? So predictable? “Do you find me boring?” she asked before she could help it.
To her surprise, Caspen let out another low chuckle. “Not in the least.”
Her heart leaped. “But you must have met a thousand people in your lifetime.”
“Far more than a thousand.”
His words hung in the air, their meaning ambiguous. If he had met that many people in his lifetime and he didn’t find her boring, that must mean she had made some sort of impression on him-potentially a positive one. Was he saying he found her interesting?
The thought was too much to bear. Rather than ask for clarification, she reached for a chocolate. Before she could touch it, the basilisk caught her arm. Tem froze as he raised her hand to the fire, turning it so that her freckles caught the light.
“Have you always had these?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. To Tem’s horror, a darkness passed over his face. “Are they…I mean…is that bad?” she stammered.
Caspen blinked. “No,” he said quickly, dropping her hand. “Just…” He hesitated for a long time, as if choosing his next word carefully. “Rare.”
“Rare?”
“Eat,” he insisted, ignoring her question. “We will not be meeting tomorrow.”
Doubt shot through her. “Why not?”
“The prince wishes to see his potential future wives. You will go to the castle with the other students.”
Students.