Page 46 of Split or Swallow
He tilted his head.
“Everything we have done together has been the first time for you. Why is this any different?”
Again, Tem couldn’t put it into words. There was silence as she tried to formulate her thoughts, and Caspen waited patiently for her to do so. Finally, she murmured:
“Yes to one thing isn’t yes to the rest.”
“That is true,” he paused, tilting his head in the other direction, clearly trying to understand her outburst. She was still trying to understand it herself. “But have I not earned your trust?”
Tem considered the question. “You have.”
“Then why not let me do this?”
Tem’s chest felt like it was full of rocks.
Who would want a girl who tastes like chicken shit?
“I’m afraid,” she finally admitted.
“Of what?”
She shrugged, refusing to say anything else. How could she explain it to him? He was a basilisk—the Serpent King—he wasn’t afraid of anything. Sex meant next to nothing to Caspen. But it meant everything to Tem. He had no idea what it was like to be her—to be fragile and human and vulnerable. This wasn’t something he could understand.
Caspen pushed her knees together gently, as if to undo what just happened.
“We can wait until you are ready, if that is what you wish.”
When she still didn’t speak, he crawled so he was laying next to her.
They were silent for a while, and she knew Caspen was letting her determine what happened next. She wasn’t ready to confide her true fears. Instead, she whispered:
“Do you like doing it?”
Caspen’s breath was on her cheek.
“Why do you ask?”
“I’m just curious.”
He looked at her for a long moment before answering:
“Yes. I like doing it.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, the muscles rolling in his shoulders.
“Instinct, I suppose.”
“But what do you like about it specifically?”
She could tell this was the first time anyone had ever asked him that. Surely, he found this line of questioning bizarre. But he indulged her anyway, saying:
“It is a way to bestow pleasure on someone. It is a way to understand them, and to taste them.”
At his words, Tem realized she would not be able to avoid her fears. She would have to face them, no matter the consequences. So she asked the question that was gnawing at the edge of her throat:
“What if you don’t like the way I taste?”
