Filed To Story: Spit or Swallow: Kiss Of The Basilisk
Tem got dressed.
Caspen disappeared while she was pulling on her clothes, and when he reappeared, he had a tray of food. But instead of sitting and eating with her, he set the tray down on the mat and left without another word. The cave was glaringly empty without him, and Tem fought to hold back tears. How had the night ended so poorly when it had started so well? It was then that she realized he had taken the claw with him. She didn’t bother eating. She just ran home.
The next time she came to the cave, it was clear they were back to square one.
For the next three nights, Tem sat on the mat, stroked Caspen’s cock until he came, then ate her food alone. Caspen didn’t give the claw back; he didn’t talk to her. He didn’t even look her in the eye. The meetings were so impersonal that Tem couldn’t help but wonder if this was how they were for the other girls and their basilisks. Would this have been what happened if she hadn’t asked him to undress the first night they met? Was this what it was like to have no connection to the person she was touching? She didn’t know how long it would go on this way. All she knew was that she hated it.
Things were no better during the daytime. Tem spent every waking hour doing farmwork or running errands, anything to keep her mind off Caspen’s unbearable indifference. Her visits to the bakery were nothing short of agony. Vera’s cruelty knew no bounds; she’d taken Tem’s low podium ranking as permission to return to her preferred method of torture, which was finding every opportunity to disparage the fact that Tem was a chicken farmer. Her taunts were rudimentary but effective. Tem weathered them in silence, delivering the eggs to the bakery and receiving her payment without saying a word. Vera clearly thought Tem was unworthy in every single way. Tem almost agreed with her.
Even her home was no longer a sanctuary. Her mother hovered nervously, watching Tem’s every move as if she knew the training wasn’t going well. Gabriel was no help either. He was sequestered away in the castle, working long hours in the kitchens to accommodate all the extra guests. Tem hated going to the Horseman alone, and even when she braved it, Vera was always there, ready with a fresh wave of taunts.
On the fourth night, Tem decided she’d had enough.
She went to the cave, like she always did. She sat on the mat, like she always did. But the moment Caspen went to untie his trousers, Tem spoke abruptly.
“I’m not doing that again.”
Caspen blinked. She took advantage of his surprise, crossing her arms and continuing.
“You came in less than a minute last time. I’d say I’ve mastered that particular exercise, wouldn’t you?”
It was meant to dig at him in more ways than one. Despite his obvious attempts to distance himself from her, there was no denying the hold she had on him. It was almost too easy getting him to come. All it took was for Tem to sit a little too close, to let her breath skim over his shoulder, and Caspen couldn’t resist his climax. She savored the feeling, knowing it was her one advantage in their silent battle of wills. But she was done being silent.
Caspen’s eyes narrowed. Finally, he looked at her. It felt like an eternity since she’d stared into his golden irises. She used the opportunity to lean in, forcing him to maintain eye contact.
“I’m. Not. Doing. That. Again.”
There was a moment of silence, and in it, Tem could almost see the two sides of him fighting with each other: one side that wanted to keep her at arm’s length and the other that couldn’t resist her. Tem wanted him to give in. But the only way to win was to do the exact thing he thought she couldn’t do: be patient. So she sat there silently and waited.
Finally, just like she knew he would, Caspen gave in.
“What would you like to do instead, Tem?”
Tem knew what he expected her to say. But she didn’t want to have sex-at least not tonight. Instead, she said, “I want to talk.”
Caspen blinked again. “About what?”
That was easy. “You.”
Now he looked surprised. He tilted his head in that reptilian way of his, assessing her with uncanny intelligence. “In that case,” he said slowly, “what do you wish to know?”
She would have to be careful with her first question. She didn’t want to scare him off or make him regret talking to her. She would start small and build from there.
“Do you have any siblings?”
If he had looked surprised before, now he looked downright confused. It was a ridiculous question-she didn’t even care about the answer. But it was meant to disarm him, and by the expression on his face, it had done just that.
“Yes,” he said. “I do.”
“How many?”
He shifted as if considering standing up and leaving. But he stayed where he was, his eyes still on hers as he answered, “Four.”
“What are their names?”
Caspen hesitated. Tem thought he might not answer. And then: “Apollo, Agnes, Cypress, and Damon.”
They were odd names. Tem used them as inspiration for her next question. “Do basilisks have last names, like humans do?”
“Yes. In a sense.”
“In what sense?”
“We take the name of our quiver as our last name.”
“Quiver?”
“It is like a clan.”
“So what’s your clan name?”
“Drakon.”
Tem paused. “Caspenon Drakon,” she said, trying the syllables out on her tongue. “That’s your full name?”
“Yes.”
“Sounds sort of silly, don’t you think?”
Caspen let out a bark of laughter the likes of which Tem had never heard from him before. His normally fierce eyes crinkled around the corners, softening his entire face into something almost human. At his reaction, Tem laughed too. It was the first time they had done that together.
“It’s true,” she insisted. “It rhymes.”
Caspen shook his head, still smiling. “That may be the case. But I would not suggest saying that to another basilisk, should you ever meet one. They will not take kindly to it.”
“I didn’t realize snakes were so easily offended.”
Caspen’s smile only widened. “I would not suggest calling us ‘snakes’ either. Not unless you have a death wish.”
“Seems like a lot of rules to follow.”
“Knowing you, you will not follow any of them.”
There was a pause, and in it, Tem savored the way he was looking at her-like the barrier he’d erected the last three days was falling. She wanted nothing more than for it to stay down.
Caspen spoke next. “What is your last name?”
“Verus.”
He lifted his chin, considering her. “Temperance Verus,” he said quietly.
She loved the way her name sounded in his mouth. “That’s me,” she said just as quietly.
Eventually, Caspen relaxed.
He stretched out on the mat as they talked, one arm behind his head, the other resting on Tem’s legs. It was a small gesture, yet Tem felt as if they were deeply connected by it, as if he were literally holding them together with his hand. He didn’t pull her closer or do anything to deepen the moment. But it still felt intimate, and it was exactly what Tem had been craving from him for three long days. They talked for hours, about nothing and everything. Eventually, Tem lay down too.
They didn’t kiss. Instead, Caspen undid the lacings of her dress one loop at a time, pulling it off her body until she was in nothing but her underclothing. Then he pulled that off too, and she was once more naked beneath him.
He still didn’t kiss her. It seemed like all he wanted to do was to touch her. Caspen brushed his fingertips gently up her thighs, over her hip bone, and along the curve of her hip. He traced up the center of her stomach, resting his palm in the valley between her breasts. Tem wondered if he could feel her heart, which was beating so fast she could practically hear it. His hand was moving again, sliding up to wrap around her throat. Her pulse thrummed in her temple, pounding an incessant rhythm into her brain.