Chapter 577: (Non-MC sex. Skip if you don't like that kind of thing) Union of the Evening

When his tongue brushed the seam of her lips she opened for him, and the kiss turned fuller, wetter, with years of unspoken tension in the way their mouths met and parted and met again, a conversation without words.

Eve was shocked and happy at the same time. The reality of Octavius's mouth on hers, the solid warmth of his body pressed close, felt like something she had only ever imagined in private.

[Thank goodness...] Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes and traced warm paths down her cheeks, born purely of overwhelming relief and joy.

CLICK.

The door opened without warning.

"Oh, I forgot to mentio— What?! You finally cracked that dense head open?! Sis, you're amazing!"

Janin had walked back into the unlocked room and frozen at the sight of the two of them locked in a deep kiss.

Eve tore her mouth away just long enough to snarl, "Get out, useless fool!" and flung a dagger in his direction.

The blade spun end over end. Janin twisted aside, the steel missing him by inches, and bolted back into the hallway.

Eve crossed the room in three quick strides, slammed the door, and turned the lock with a sharp click.

When she turned around again, Octavius was still sitting where she had left him, face flushed a deep red, lips slightly parted and glistening.

The sight made her smile all over again: soft, radiant, and disbelieving.

She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of the loose pants that covered her lower half and pushed them down.

The fabric slid over the smooth flare of her hips, down the long lines of her thighs, and pooled at her ankles.

She stepped out of them without hurry, then reached for the hem of the sheer black top.

She drew it upward in one continuous motion, the thin material whispering over her skin until it left her completely bare.

Small, firm breasts rose and fell with her breathing; the dark nipples were already tight. Between her legs a neat triangle of dark hair framed the soft, closed folds of her vagina.

She walked toward him slowly, every step deliberate, letting him look.

Octavius could not look away.

His eyes had followed the path of the falling clothes, with the reveal of each new stretch of skin, the quiet confidence in the way she moved.

When she stopped in front of him he was still fully dressed, breathing harder than before.

She opened her mouth to ask him to kiss her again, but the words never came.

"E-Eve, please be mine!" Octavius's voice cracked with sudden intensity. "The Octavius you know died here in Thaad. Heka killed him. But the new me is nothing—a shaft and a perfectly ordinary man. A more confident one. Will you… be my wife?"

Eve's eyes widened. Both hands rose to her own chest as if to steady the sudden rush of feeling.

Then her expression softened into the most open smile she had ever given him. Fresh tears spilled over, heavier this time, tracking freely down her face.

"Yes, Tavi. I would love to marry you."

He reached for her at once.

The kiss that followed was deeper than the first; hungrier and less careful.

His hands slid down the bare length of her back and settled on the soft curve of her ass, pulling her flush against him.

She felt the hard length of him through his pants and made a small, startled sound into his mouth.

They undressed him together between kisses. Tunic first, then lace, then pants and underclothes until he stood as bare as she was.

His cock jutted thick and flushed between them, the head already wet. Eve's fingers closed around it experimentally; the heat and solid weight of it made her breath catch.

He guided her backward until the backs of her knees met the edge of the bed. She sat, then lay down, dark hair spreading across the bed.

Octavius climbed over her, bracing his weight on his forearms so he would not crush her.

The head of his cock nudged against her pussy entrance. Both of them were trembling.

"I've actually never…" he began, a bit nervous.

"Hehe... Neither have I," she whispered with a giggle.

He pushed forward slowly.

The tight, slick heat of her opened around him inch by inch. Eve's mouth fell open; a long, shaky moan spilled out as she was filled for the first time.

When he was finally seated to the hilt they stayed still, foreheads pressed together, simply breathing through the intensity of it.

Then he began to move.

The first strokes were careful and reverent.

The wet sound of their joining filled the quiet room. Eve's legs rose and wrapped around his waist, heels pressing into the small of his back to pull him deeper.

Her hands roamed his shoulders, his back, the flexing muscles of his arms. Every thrust dragged against places inside her that sent bright sparks racing up her spine.

Her breasts swayed with the rhythm; he lowered his head and took one nipple into his mouth, sucking firmly while his hips kept their steady pace.

Pleasure built in slow, heavy waves. Eve's moans grew louder, less controlled. Her inner walls fluttered and clenched around him.

When the climax finally took her it was deep and rolling—her back arched, her nails dug into his shoulders, and a broken cry left her throat as she pulsed around his cock.

Octavius lasted only a few more thrusts before he followed, burying himself to the root and spilling inside her in thick, rhythmic pulses.

They stayed locked together until the trembling eased. Then he withdrew, still half-hard, and turned her onto her hands and knees.

Eve looked back over her shoulder at him, cheeks flushed, eyes dark with renewed want.

He guided himself back into her from behind. The new angle let him sink even deeper. His hands gripped her hips as he began to thrust again—harder this time, the wet slap of skin on skin growing louder.

Eve dropped to her elbows, cheek against the mattress, and pushed her hips back to meet every stroke. Her breasts swung freely beneath her.

Another orgasm built quickly; when it broke she cried out his nick name, walls spasming tightly around him.

He pulled out only long enough to stand at the edge of the bed and draw her backward until her feet touched the floor.

Still bent forward over the mattress, she braced her hands on the sheets. Octavius stepped in close, aligned himself, and drove back into her in one smooth thrust.

The standing position let him set a deeper, more punishing rhythm. One hand held her hip; the other reached around to rub tight circles over her clit. Eve's legs shook.

The dual stimulation pushed her into a third climax that left her sobbing with pleasure, barely able to stay upright.

They shifted again—Eve on her back once more, one leg hooked high over his shoulder so he could fold her nearly in half; then side by side, her thigh draped over his hip while he stroked into her with slower, grinding thrusts; then Eve astride him, learning the motion of rolling her hips so that every downward slide rubbed her clit against his body.

Each position drew new sounds from her, new expressions of astonished pleasure. Come from both of them slicked their thighs and the sheets beneath.

By the time they finally stilled, evening was closing in.

Eve lay draped across Octavius's chest, both of them sweat-slicked and breathing hard, his softening cock still nested inside her.

She pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses along his collarbone while his hand stroked idly up and down the length of her spine.