Page 75 of Split or Swallow

The moment she did so, he returned to her mind.

His arousal matched her own; she could feel how much he wanted her, his heat traveling down the shared corridor of their connection. The tapered tip of the claw pressed against her clitoris, and when she imagined it was Caspen pressing her instead, she felt weak.

Tem climbed into bed, the sheets soft beneath her fingers. His voice came to her as she was pulling the covers over her shoulders:

Leave them.

Joy erupted in her chest at his command. She hadn’t quite believed him when he said he would think of her—then again, she never quite did. Yet here he was, mere minutes later, keeping his word.

Tem left the covers by her feet, laying back on the pillows and shuddering in anticipation. A single pulse tingled between her legs, traveling up her body and peaking her nipples. The pulse quickened, and with it, her heartbeat. She tilted her knees open, brushing her fingers down her stomach, preparing to touch herself.

Be still.

Tem froze, her hand halfway down her body.

Watch.

Tem sat up curiously, staring between her legs. At first, nothing happened—she only felt a gentle vibration, which made her ache even more.

Then the claw began to move.

It slid in and out of her slowly, moving entirely on its own accord. Tem watched in mesmerized awe, transfixed by its steady momentum. She could not look away; it was a marvel to behold such magic, and more amazing still to feel it. The claw seemed to glow as it penetrated her, never going all the way inside her—always stopping itself with the tapered end, which acted as a fingertip would, applying pressure against her clitoris with each penetration.

Kneel.

Tem did so, the curve of her ass resting on her heels, her thighs forming an open angle on the bed. She gripped the blankets tightly, focusing on her breathing as the claw went deeper, prompting her to move her hips in order to rub herself against the mattress. The combination of sensations felt so good she arched her back as a moan escaped her throat.

She was wet now, and it was soaking into her sheets. But Tem didn’t care; she couldn’t stop rubbing herself, and she knew Caspen wouldn’t want her to anyway. She slid her hips back and forth, concentrating on the point of the claw, which was hard between her legs. If only Caspen were here—if only she could ride him the way she was riding her sheets—if only he could feel just how much she wanted to give herself to him. Tem needed him to know how turned on she was—how utterly obedient and pliable her body had become.

She pictured it with all her strength: her on top, him underneath, her palms splayed flat on his chest, his hands gripping her ass. She imagined how he would pull her against him with sharp thrusts, again and again, until they finished in unison.

As she pictured them together, she felt Caspen’s hunger grow.

He sent her a vision back—the mirror of her own, but this time from his perspective. He was looking up at her as she rode him, her face flushed with heat, her breasts pushed together.

Was that what she looked like to him? Surely, he was embellishing the vision. Tem had never seen herself like that—beautiful, fierce—a sexual being—a woman. It was incredible to see what he saw, to view herself through the lens of his desire.

The claw moved in tandem with her, sliding in and out so she could pleasure herself on top of it. Caspen’s presence in her mind only grew—she could feel him there as clearly as she felt herself.

Get on all fours.

The order was a growl. Tem obeyed immediately, feeling a rush of cold as the air met her wetness. But it lasted only a moment before the claw burned hotly and she cried out, twisting her fists into the sheets. She tried to remain still as Caspen sent it deeper and deeper inside her, but it was impossible not to react. The tip remained pressed against her clitoris, and the deeper he sent it, the more the pressure increased.

Beautiful.

The claw went deeper.

Perfect.

Even deeper.

Angel…fucking angel.

She could barely take another second.

Beautiful, perfect Tem. Fucking perfection.

It went on. Caspen whispered word after sweet word, pushing her closer and closer to orgasm. When she was just moments from finishing, the pressure suddenly disappeared.