Page 167 of Between Two Kings

I want you all the way down my throat.

His hand moved faster.

So did hers.

I want that too.

When you win the tournament, what’s the first thing you’re going to do to me?

Caspen’s mouth twitched. Touch you.

And then?

Fuck you.

Tem’s smile matched his. She couldn’t wait. It was unbearable like this—just like their first time in the cave together, when Caspen told her he wouldn’t touch her. That had been a choice; this was forced upon them by Rowe. It felt like wild rebellion to be with each other anyway—in whatever form that took—to refuse to let Rowe win. He could contest their marriage, but he would never contest their love for each other. That was theirs alone.

Her neck was still covered in his cum. Tem took what she could onto her fingers, raising them to her lips. Caspen watched her with complete concentration, pumping his cock through his fist, looking at nothing but her naked body beneath him. Tem knew he was imagining all the things he wanted to do to her. She wished dearly that he would do them.

This time Caspen came all over her breasts. Tem ran her hands through it, spreading it over her skin and rubbing it sensually around her nipples. Then she took herself there, using his essence and joining it with hers.

“My love,” Caspen whispered as she came.

They fell asleep facing each other, their bodies an inch apart.

When she woke the next morning, Tem watched him as he slept. She would never get used to falling asleep without touching him and waking up the same. The barrier between them was already devastating, but it was especially horrible today, on Sunday, when all Tem wanted was to be held.

The day passed quickly, and the carriage ride to the castle was silent.

Tem thought of the other carriage rides, the ones where Caspen had touched her and kissed her and teased her. Now they sat six inches apart, completely silent, staring straight ahead. Not for the first time, Tem desperately wished things were different. She wished she hadn’t crested Leo. She wished Rowe hadn’t contested their marriage. It was all a mess. And it was all hers.

“Caspen,” she whispered. She looked at his beautiful, sculpted face—the face she loved so much.

“What is it, Tem?” Always attentive, always tuned in—that was Caspen. It always would be.

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

She was scared of so many things—of losing Caspen, of losing Leo, of the bloodletting, of the tournament. The list was growing so long, she couldn’t even name them all.

In the darkness of the carriage, Caspen sighed. “As am I.”

His admission chilled Tem. Caspen’s threshold for fear was much higher than hers. If he was scared, it meant there was truly something to fear. Once again, Tem wanted to reach for him. Once again, she couldn’t.

A butler ushered them into the castle and then into the dining room.

Leo and Evelyn were already there, sitting at the table. Leo stood up as she entered, and everything that had happened in the parlor flashed through Tem’s mind. She remembered the glow of the fire, the heat of his skin. She remembered how he’d held her breasts and squeezed until she whimpered.

What if I asked to kiss you right now? Would you let me?

“Tem,” he said, breaking her from her thoughts. “How are you?”

Tem blinked. She had no idea how to answer it. Rather than try, she said, “Can you just take me downstairs? I don’t have all night.”

Leo shook his head. “You won’t be going to the dungeon this evening.”

Tem glanced at Caspen, who looked similarly nonplussed. Evelyn, on the other hand, was fuming. She refused to stand, glaring at Tem from her seat at the table, her hands clenched in her lap.

“Why not?”