Chapter Fourteen #2
The moment she did so, Apollo’s presence strengthened to the point of pain. His mind gripped hers so tightly, it was as if he were standing before her with his hands on her skull. Tem grit her teeth against the sudden change, forcing herself to maintain eye contact.
Evil woman. You have no idea how good you look.
Tem had every idea. She’d seen herself in the mirror a hundred times; she knew exactly how her center looked—perfect and wet and begging to be touched.
She understood how men coveted her body, how she was no longer someone without power.
Tem wielded it now, opening her knees even wider so Apollo could see every inch of her.
A wave of pure, untethered lust surged from Apollo’s mind to hers.
It nearly took Tem’s breath away in its intensity, and she was suddenly aware of the way he saw her.
Unlike the desire she felt from Caspen, which was rooted in their deep emotional connection, the desire Apollo felt was purely physical.
He wanted to touch her—to fuck her. He wanted to grip the soft curve of her hips and yank her body against his until they both came together, sweaty and gasping.
The vision was overwhelming; Tem could barely breathe. And yet, she wanted more.
What else, Apollo?
The words were a whisper. A plea. She wanted to know what else he wanted to do with her—how far he would take this.
Another scene surged into her mind, so powerful she had to shut her eyes.
Her and Apollo, naked together. She saw it from his perspective—how he wanted her on his lap, on his cock, ready for the taking.
They were face-to-face, and Tem felt how badly he needed her like that, how he needed to look her in the eye—to force her to be present.
He was like his brother in that way; I want to see your face when you come.
What was it about these two brothers? There was no hiding from them—no deception or concealing.
They demanded the truth from her, always, and for once, she was willing to provide it.
Tem opened her eyes. She brushed her hand up her thigh, pausing just before her center.
Do you want me to touch it?
Apollo nodded vigorously. Pathetic.
Say it.
Touch it, Temperance. Please.
Why should I?
Because I want you to.
And why should I give you what you want?
It seemed Apollo had no answer to that. His own hand was on his cock, stroking it to the sight of her, far beyond the point of only using one finger.
Tem watched him calmly, observing the way he touched himself.
It was different than the way Caspen did it—his strokes were steady and sure, confident.
Apollo’s were quick and desperate, the muscles in his chest tensing as his arm jerked up and down. Tem watched him for as long as she pleased, contemplating where she wanted to take this next.
There was something satisfying about exposing herself in this way.
Tem had always loved the thrill of being seen.
She wanted to be perceived as a sexual being, and Apollo thought of her as nothing but.
She stared at Apollo, and he stared at her.
He was the only one moving—stroking his cock to the sight of her naked body, showing her visions of what he imagined them doing together.
Him thrusting between her legs, him holding her down by her wrists, her calling his name.
Always, her calling his name. It seemed to be a point of interest for him: Apollo needed to hear her say it.
Tem filed that piece of information away for a later date, vowing to remember it when she needed it.
Are you wet for me, Temperance?
She was. Tem could feel it trailing down her thighs, pooling onto the hard wooden bench.
How she wished it could pool on something else instead.
Apollo’s eyes bored into hers. She knew exactly what he wanted her to do: walk across the banquet hall and mount him.
But Tem wouldn’t mount him. Not today, at least. Today was about teasing him—about showing him what he couldn’t have. Perhaps it was time to do exactly that.
Tem slipped her fingers deep into her slick center, wetting them before pulling them out again. Apollo’s breath hitched—she could hear it in her mind as if he were right beside her. For once, he didn’t speak. Perhaps he had run out of words.
In and out. In and out.
Instead of riding a cock, Tem rode her fingers, plunging them so deep that she nearly lost her breath.
With every stroke, Apollo’s desire only grew.
She could feel it from here—an aching need the likes of which she’d only ever experienced from Caspen.
What a privilege to feel it from both brothers—to have them both in the palm of her hand.
Tem knew Apollo could see everything: the way her fingers dipped in her center, the way her other hand squeezed her breasts.
Nobody around them noticed, or if they did, nobody cared.
Two people touching themselves was nothing new to the basilisks.
This was just another day for them—simply another meal in the banquet hall.
Tem’s fingers slid deeper, her thumb gently circling her clitoris.
It was no different than what she’d done in her childhood bedroom for years.
Only this time, someone was watching. Tem thought of the last time she’d enjoyed being watched like this. The ritual.
Had Apollo been there? Surely he had been. And if so, did he remember the experience? Somehow, Tem hoped he did. She wanted him to have seen her that way: naked and sweaty and riding his father before riding his brother.
I was there. I remember.
Apollo sent her a vision: his point of view as he watched the ritual. Tem saw herself on Bastian, her body leaned forward, her ass on full display for everyone to see. Tem blushed. She was so exposed.
You were stunning.
Tem couldn’t believe Apollo had watched her fuck his father—that it had turned him on—and now he wanted to do the same to her.
She was close now. There was no denying it—no stopping it.
What was the point, really, in depriving herself of this?
Why shouldn’t Tem indulge the way all the other basilisks indulged?
They way her people indulged? Tem was one of them now.
She might as well start acting like it. She drove her fingers deeper, ready to come.
But something stopped her.
Tem felt him before she saw him, his presence pressing against her mind like stone.
Caspen was walking slowly—deliberately—taking his time as he approached the table where she was seated.
A moment later, he was before her. His eyes roved first over Tem, then Apollo, then back to Tem.
She sat frozen, her hand still between her legs, her mouth parted in surprise.
Apollo had also ceased his movements and was sitting in silence, watching.
In what felt like slow motion, Caspen sat down next to her.
A beat passed. Then another. Without a word, Caspen turned to the nearest plate, picked up a fork, and began to eat.
Tem stared at him. Was he not going to say anything?
Do anything? Had he even noticed that her fingers were inside her, that his brother was across from her?
But he had—she knew he had. And he’d ignored it.
Tem had no idea how to proceed. She threw a questioning glance at Apollo, which he didn’t return.
He was staring at his brother with an expression akin to amusement.
It surprised Tem. She would have thought he’d be embarrassed or even apologetic.
What could he possibly be so amused about?
Before she could ask, Caspen’s voice loomed in her mind: Keep going.
Tem whipped her head over to look at him. Was he serious?
You heard me, Tem. Keep going.
Are you insane?
He still wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at his plate, acting as if this were a perfectly normal meal. It was anything but.
Apollo’s voice came to her next: What did he say to you?
He told me to keep going.
To her utter surprise, Apollo smiled darkly. You should do as he says.
You’re both insane.
I already told you, Temperance. You cannot ruin us.
Tem processed his words, trying to figure out how she felt about them.
Was he saying what she thought he was saying?
That nothing she did—even something as wild as this—was worse than what the Drakon brothers had already done to themselves?
It was unfathomable. But Tem was done questioning it.
She was still turned on—even more so now that Caspen was here. And she wanted to come.
So Tem kept going.
She went slowly at first, tentatively, to see if Caspen would react. When he didn’t, she resumed her pace, teasing herself to the sight of his brother. Apollo kept going too. His strokes quickened, his eyes focused on her center, his chest shining with sweat.
My brother does not know how lucky he is.
Trust me, he knows.
Then he does not appreciate it. I would fuck you every day if you were mine.
Too bad I’m not yours.
Yet.
Fuck you.
I would like to.
When she didn’t answer, Apollo’s eyes narrowed.
Use him.
Tem’s jaw dropped. Did he mean what she thought he meant?
Before she could ask for clarification, Apollo said: Take his hand and touch yourself.
Hot anticipation shot through Tem. He was asking the impossible. There was no universe in which she would do that.
Use his hand, Temperance.
She couldn’t fathom it. It was something out of a dream—a fantasy she would indulge in during the late hours of the night, not something she would do in the banquet hall in front of everyone.
Use my brother. Do it.