Page 42 of Between Two Kings

“So perfect for me.”

Caspen was always commanding. But now he was gentle, his lips against her skin, his hushed words for her and her alone. They had limited time in the carriage, but Caspen was in no hurry. He fingered her slowly, with lyrical rhythm, caressing her center with intention and care. Never going too deep—never letting her moan too loudly.

It was a pleasure to be touched like this, to experience the stunning ascent toward imminence, to feel nothing but resplendent pleasure. Tem wished they were back in their chambers. She wished she could kiss him and ride him and bring them both to climax. The carriage was too small for everything Tem wanted him to do to her. Their capabilities were constricted by these four walls, their brilliance dulled by circumstance. If Tem had her way, Caspen would fuck her in front of the driver. That was all that mattered to her: being seen. Being perceived. There was nothing more clarifying than having a cock between her legs.

Caspen’s eyes were turning black.

Tem stared into them, losing herself in the endless pools, imagining what it would be like to drown in them. His power was intimidating, even now. And yet, Tem wondered if she could match it. She wondered, somehow, if her allure was equal to his. He was the one who’d initiated this, after all. He was the one who pulled her closer.

“Caspen,” she whispered.

In reply, he trailed kisses down her neck. His teeth found her dress strap, pulling it from her shoulder to expose her breasts. His mouth moved lower, sucking the tender peak of her nipple into his mouth. Tem was unbearably warm. She wanted him right now or else she would die.

Patience.

Tem had administered torture in a carriage once before. It was entirely different to be on the receiving end—to have someone know her limits and push her to them—to be at the mercy of the hard man before her.

Caspen worked her nipple between his teeth until tears formed in Tem’s eyes. He was sucking so hard. She was on the brink of crying out, but she couldn’t make a sound. He’d told her not to, and she would be patient; she would be good. Finally, he relinquished his grip. The moment he let her go, he switched to her other breast, the contrast so swift that Tem let out a yelp of surprise. Did the footman hear it? Did Caspen even hear it? He was so engrossed in what he was doing, she wondered if he even cared anymore.

Tem wanted to make him proud—to show that she could follow instructions. It had never been easy for her to obey. But she molded herself to him now, arching her back so there was as little distance between them as possible. Caspen rewarded her with a low growl. If she could just touch him back—if she could wrap her fingers around his cock and stroke him the way he liked—perhaps he would have her right here right now.

She cupped her hand over his trousers, squeezing the bulge between his legs.

Caspen pulled away. He was withholding himself from her, refusing to give in.

I am not going to fuck you in a carriage, Tem.

She whimpered her displeasure. Didn’t he know how much she wanted this? How open and ready she was to give him whatever he was willing to take?

“Please,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his neck. “Just a little.”

“Just a little what, my love?”

“Just fuck me a little.”

Caspen let out a murmur of a laugh before driving his fingers deeper. “No.”

It was all he said, and Tem knew his decision was final. There was nothing left to do but give herself up to him—to this. His motions were purposeful now, drawing her toward release.

“Caspen,” she gasped. She was almost there.

But Caspen’s fingers were slowing.

Not only was Caspen not going to fuck her but he had no intention of letting her come at all. It was the ultimate distraction—the only way to force her to focus on something other than what was about to happen. Instead of worrying about Evelyn, she would worry about this: the incessant need that rendered her helpless. Tem would spend the entire evening aching for it.

“Caspen,” she said, a reprimand this time. “Don’t you dare.”

In response, Caspen withdrew his fingers even more. Tem gasped with displeasure, pulling him back toward her. But he only retreated farther, raising his hand tauntingly between them, her wetness gleaming on his fingers.

“Patience,” he said again.

Tem pouted. She wanted him to keep touching her. It was all she wanted, even if she knew he wouldn’t do it. She’d been so good for him, so perfect, and this was her reward? It wasn’t fair at all. But there was nothing else she could do.

In the pause that followed, they watched each other, their minds entwined. Caspen’s eyes were black, the gold completely gone. Tem couldn’t believe they were about to go into the first of many Sunday dinners this disheveled and enamored.

Slowly, Caspen’s fingers returned to her. But still, he didn’t let her come. Instead Tem felt a familiar sensation—one she’d felt many times before. She moaned as a claw formed—this time from her own essence—sucking in a sharp breath as it grew into place. The tip cradled her tightly, pressing against her tender clitoris. A pulse came. Tem closed her eyes with a shudder. It was nearly enough to come. But not quite.

On second thought, perhaps she would enjoy dinner.