Her skin was so pale and soft.
He swallowed hard as her lips passed over his throat. It was such a terribly light caress, so teasing.
Her hair was so dark and long, trailing over her naked back in curling waves.
There was a soft pressure on his chest as she straddled him, pressing kisses along his tensed jaw. He waited with bated breath to feel one against his mouth but she made a wide berth around his trembling lips to nibble on his earlobe.
Her breasts were so round and supple. They brushed the sensitive skin of his chest with every movement she made.
Caspian.
He whined and bucked against her furtively. Every move he made to close the gap between them was unsuccessful. She was always just out of reach. It was driving him absolutely crazy. His growl was met with a delighted sigh.
What do you want of me?
It was an entirely silly question. He grasped her by the waist and ground his hips against hers. She moaned and pushed back for mere seconds before pressing her full weight down to pin him to the bed.
A King must be eloquent. Tell me what you want of your Queen.
His shout of frustration echoed inside of the room. She smiled in response. It was beautiful and terrible. He opened his mouth to reply but found he could not. Her pelvis gyrated above his once. The sensation almost brought him to the edge of his sanity.
It's very simple, Caspian. Speak.
Her command was easier said than done. Every time the words came to him, his voice died within his throat. It was as if someone had offered him a flask of water in blistering heat; the only catch was that they were on the other side of a great, impassable canyon. He screamed again. Why could he scream, but not speak?
Do you wish of me to stop then? I offer myself to you, and you cannot accept me?
That was the farthest thing from his mind. His hands grabbed her so hard he was sure he would cause bruises, but she did not complain. In fact it seemed like she barely even felt it. He looked up pleadingly into her face only to see it a total mask of concentration. Her piercing blue eyes blazed at him, her lips tightly closed, even though she was speaking.
Do you no longer desire me, Caspian?
He desired her more than air.
Do I no longer fascinate you?
She was a mystery he wanted to explore over and over again.
Would you not have me as your Queen, to share your rule and your bed?
He would do anything to make it so, for no other woman seemed worthy now that he had been enraptured by this Goddess. He would give his very soul. His mouth opened.
"Susan…"
There was a sharp jab at his ribs and Caspian found himself suddenly sprawled on his back on a cold, dirt floor. He felt around drowsily. What had become of the soft, feathered mattress, the satin sheets, and the smooth feel of the woman who had settled herself o top of him? His head throbbed unceasingly in time with the pulsating wound on his palm. With the pain came the memories. Caspian gaped up at the icy façade of the White Witch in the cavern, and Peter, who faced her shaking.
His face was overcome with a furious blush as he observed the rest of the room. The hag and werewolf lay dead a few feet away. Nikabrik had been likewise subdued, and now Lucy and Trumpkin watched wide-eyed and fearful. Caspian turned back to Peter with a similar expression. What was going through the High King's mind as he faced her? Would he fail, as Caspian had?
It seemed, for an instant, he would as Peter's sword began to droop and his face become relaxed. The Witch sneered and stretched her hand further. There was pure hungry in her eyes, the same look that the artificial Susan had been giving him as she lay before him in all her glory. He wanted nothing more than to forget, but he couldn't. The images seared behind his eyes, stronger by the minute.
And then there was a piercing crack. All eyes turned towards the blade of a sword firmly stuck through the Witch's ribs. The ice began to crack and Caspian and Peter covered their faces as chunks of it flew forward to create a pile of cold rubble before their feet. Edmund stood heaving in the ice's stead, giving a steady, yet curt, nod towards both of them before leaving. The two glanced at each other, not speaking, but communicating. Both had failed, both had fallen to such blatant and vile temptation.
A noise caught his ear and Caspian swung around to face the Stone Table. She was standing behind it, keeping her distance. Her eyes were shining in the dull light. She was incredibly guarded, glaring at them both. The severity intensified when she met Caspian's eyes. In that minute, he knew that she knew. He wasn't sure how it happened but she knew what the Witch had shown him. She knew what it was that had almost made him give away his blood to one of the most diabolical forces.
She pivoted on her heel and strode away.
He could not help but think of her kisses and her soft hands.
Caspian had never felt so ashamed.