Chapter 10 Octavius
IWATCHED THE TEAR slip down her cheek, and for a moment, instinct tugged at me to take it away, to absorb the emotion like I always did. But she had said these were tears of joy, and I would never take that from her.
So instead of my tentacles, I used my hand. I brushed the tear away gently with my thumb, my fingers lingering as though I had finally given myself permission to feel whatever this was between us.
“Kara,” I started, though I wasn’t entirely sure what I was going to say, because everything I had been holding back was slipping from my grasp.
She looked up at me, her eyes still glassy and filled with raw emotion, something that mirrored my own. And in that moment, I knew. I knew exactly what I wanted, and I knew she wanted it too. And this time, I didn’t stop myself.
My hand slid from her cheek to cradle her face fully, and I pulled her toward me, closing the distance as my lips met hers. For half a second, there was nothing, and a flicker of doubt spread through me that maybe I had misread this entirely, that I had crossed a line I couldn’t uncross.
But then she kissed me back. And whatever restraint I had left disappeared completely.
Her lips moved against mine with a kind of urgency that stole the breath from my lungs, like she wanted this just as much as I did.
The kiss deepened instantly, our lips exploring each other’s, while my other hand found her waist, pulling her closer as if there had been any space left between us to begin with.
I felt the harsh intake of her breath against my mouth as she leaned into me.
Weeks of tension, stolen glances, careful distance, and the pathetic illusion of being nothing more than friends shattered all at once.
Her fingers curled into my shirt, holding on like she had no intention of letting go, and I responded in kind, my grip tightening slightly as I angled her back just enough to deepen the kiss.
The ocean moved around our ankles, the waves rolling in with a quiet rhythm that seemed to match our own, while the faint glow in the water swirled around us.
This feeling was unlike anything I had ever known, and for the first time, instead of pulling emotions away, I felt like I was giving something back.
She was my only focus.
The way she tasted—salt from the ocean air mixed with something soft, floral, and undeniably her.
The way she moved against me, her body pressed close, chest rising and falling quickly against mine as though she couldn’t catch her breath, yet still unwilling to pull away.
The way every small reaction she gave—every shift, every quiet sound—sent something electric through me, lighting every nerve.
I broke the kiss only long enough to breathe, my forehead pressing briefly against hers while my chest rose and fell like I had swum laps for hours.
“This is...” I started, my mind scrambling for the words I should say. That this was a mistake. That this was just a moment born from vulnerability. That we needed to stop.
But when I looked at her, I couldn’t say any of that, because it wasn’t true. Not a single part of it. Because it didn’t feel wrong at all, in fact, it felt right. Perfect, even. And I hated that I had ignored it for so long.
Before I could think better of it, I kissed her again, slower this time, savoring the feel of her mouth against mine. My hand slid from her cheek to the back of her neck, holding her there as I finally allowed myself to give in to this moment. Because I was done pretending I didn’t want this.
Done pretending I didn’t want her.
My tentacles curled, wrapping around her gently as they guided her down to the sand.
She didn’t pull away, letting them cradle her as she settled beneath me.
I followed, lowering myself over her, my body hovering just enough to feel her warmth, while my tentacles remained wrapped around her, holding her close.
Her arms came around my back almost immediately, pulling me in like she didn’t want even the smallest space left between us. And when her fingers brushed over the base of where my tentacles extended from my back, the contact sent a shudder through me before I could stop it.
She felt it—I knew she did—because she did it again, slower now, like she was testing me, like she understood exactly what her touch did.
As her fingers grazed them, it felt as though she was learning me in the same way I had been learning her.
And that simple touch, in a place so sensitive, was enough to unravel me completely, my control slipping further with every second she lingered there.
I pulled back from her slightly, causing her brows to furrow, concern replacing the warmth in her expression.
“Sorry, is that off-limits?” she asked, her voice softer now as her expression fell, like she was worried she had done something wrong. And seeing her like that, I knew it was a look I never wanted to see on her again, especially not because of something like this.
I leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her brow, hoping to smooth away that worry line before it could take hold. A breathy laugh slipped from me as I pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.
“No, but if you keep touching my tentacles like that, I might, um... peak...” I said, a little shy. “Uh, you know what I mean... a lot faster than I’d like. Right here in the sand, no less.”
Her expression shifted instantly, the worry melting into amusement as she let out a small laugh. “Guess my hands aren’t just good for shuffling cards.”
“Oh, believe me,” I said, my gaze dropping briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes, “those hands are capable of wonderful things, and I fully intend to discover every single one.” I brushed my thumb along her jaw, enjoying the sensation of her skin. “But for now, let me focus on you.”
She seemed to understand without me needing to say more, her fingers shifting lightly into the fabric of my shirt instead of the base of my tentacles. And as much as I loved her hands on me there, I wanted this to last, and more importantly, I wanted this to be about her pleasure first.
My hands and tentacles moved over her in ways that had nothing to do with professionalism anymore and everything to do with the way she responded to me.
I traced along the curve of her side, the line of her waist, feeling the subtle shifts of her body as she reacted, while my hand cradled the side of her head, keeping her close as my lips found hers again.
Her tongue brushed against mine, the kiss deepening as we both leaned into it, testing, learning, giving and taking in equal measure until I was already teetering on the edge again, and now I feared I wouldn’t make it through this and I’d come right here in my pants like some inexperienced asshole.
Keep it together, man. Focus on her and her alone.
I pulled back just slightly, but I wasn’t done with her, not even close.
My mouth left hers, trailing along her cheek and down the line of her jaw, each kiss slow and deliberate until I reached the curve of her neck.
I lingered there, pressing softer kisses against her skin before letting my teeth graze lightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to pull a breathy sound from her lips.
I soothed the spot instantly with my tongue until one of my tentacles joined in, the suckers fastening themselves to the other side of her neck.
My lips and tentacles worked in tandem, and I was already rock hard at the thought of how she would look tomorrow, wearing my marks like a necklace.
The round hickeys that would paint her skin from my tentacles would show everyone exactly who she belonged to.
Her broken whimpers only encouraged me further as another tentacle wrapped around her neck, finding more places to latch onto. I could feel everything—her desire, her pleasure—I felt it all, but I didn’t take it. I only gave her more, fueling the heat building between us.
“Octavius,” she moaned as her hands moved suddenly, grabbing a fistful of my shirt and tugging at the fabric like she couldn’t get it off fast enough, like there was still too much space between us.
I pulled my tentacles back, giving her easier access as she dragged the shirt off and tossed it to the side.
The second her fingers brushed against my skin along my ribcage, I felt it—every inch of it, even through muscle.
I was already reaching for her in return, my fingers finding the edge of her dress, pushing it up and sliding it over her head. The fabric joined my shirt, forgotten in the sand, until there was almost nothing left between us but the delicate barrier of lace.
My gaze lifted, drawn upward—first to her throat, then to the pearl necklace resting against her skin, catching the faint glow of the water behind us.
It shimmered softly, rising and falling with her breath as her eyes locked onto mine, like she was asking what I would do next... or maybe daring me to find out.
I wanted her completely bare, and only her bra, her panties, and that pearl stood in the way now. I moved my hands to the clasp of the necklace, intending to work my way down. But the moment my fingers closed around the chain, her hand shot up, catching mine.
“Don’t,” she said. I couldn’t tell if it was a command or a plea.
I released it immediately, letting the chain fall back against her skin. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“No,” she said quickly, but there was something different beneath her tone now that I couldn’t quite ignore as I felt a flicker of nervous energy run through her.
“It’s just... it’s a family heirloom, and you know how beach sand is,” she added with an uneven laugh.
“If it gets buried, I’ll probably never see it again. ”
I nodded slowly, understanding the reasoning—but something about it didn’t sit quite right.
“Is everything alright?” I asked quietly, needing to be sure. Needing to know if I had pushed too far, or if this was simply moving faster than she expected.