“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.
Her eyes flickered, something unreadable passing through them for just a second before she shook her head and reached for me again.
“Yes,” she said softly. “Please, just—” Her hand slid up to my neck, her fingers curling there as she pulled me back down toward her. “Come back down here and kiss me.”
I could still feel something was off, but I didn’t want to read her emotions if it wasn’t my place. Instead, I did as she asked as my lips crashed back down onto hers, and whatever hesitation had tried to surface disappeared.
Her lips clung to mine, and slowly I let my hands roam her curves again, desperate to map every inch of her. Before I could stop it, my tentacles joined in, coiling around her limbs, her soft moans giving me the validation that she wasn’t uncomfortable with any of this. Instead, she leaned into each touch, urging me on for more.
My cock was harder than polished coral, grinding against her thigh in a rhythm she instinctively mirrored. It felt like a ninth tentacle, a mindless, searching thing driven by a singular need for friction and release. One of my more curious tentacles slipped beneath the waistband of her panties, seeking the place I had been aching to touch, the need coiling tighter with every passing second.
Her moans filled the air as the tip of my tentacle brushed between her legs, teasing and testing, taking its time as it explored her, pleasantly pleased to find her already soaking wet for me. But after only a few strokes, I felt her stiffen.
It wasn’t just physical. I felt it ripple through her entirely. It wasn’t rejection or fear, not exactly, but it wasn’t steady either. And that was enough to tell me something was wrong. I wasn’t sure if it had to do with me, but I needed to be certain.
I pulled back, breaking the kiss before it could go any further. “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice rough as I drew my tentacle back. “I didn’t mean to—” I exhaled sharply, searching for the right words. “It was the heat of the moment.”
My gaze searched hers, and I saw the worry returning to her expression—the very look I had just promised myself I would never be the cause of. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No,” she said softly, shaking her head. Her hands still rested against me, but they no longer pulled me closer. “It’s not that. I just...” She exhaled, her gaze dropping for a moment before lifting back to mine. “I don’t want to do this with you until I’ve been honest with you.”
Something in my chest tightened as my blood turned cold.
Of course there was something. I had known it from the beginning. My instinct to watch her closely, to try and uncover what she was hiding, had been correct. But somewhere along the way, it had stopped mattering. Somewhere, I had decided I didn’t want to know. That whatever secrets she carried were hers to keep. Because knowing them might change things, and I didn’t think I was readyfor that, not if it meant turning this—turning us—into something impossible. My jaw tightened as the thought settled in, but just as quickly, something else pushed back against it.
It didn’t matter.
Whatever she said, it wouldn’t change how I felt. It wouldn’t stop me from wanting her, from choosing her. From fighting for her.
“I’ll always be here,” I said, my voice calm even if everything inside me wasn’t. “No matter what it is. But just know you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
“I know,” she said. “But...” She hesitated for a second, like the words were harder than she expected. “If we’re going to go any further with... well, with whatever this is, and if your tentacles reallycansense things...” A small, almost nervous breath slipped from her lips. “It’s only a matter of time before you find out anyway, and I’d rather be the one to give you my truth than have you discover it on your own. Especially if I fall even harder for you and it turns out to be something you could never accept.”
“Kara,” I whispered, cradling her face, “nothing you can say is going to change how I feel.” I held her there, needing her to see it, to believe it. “And I have feelings for you too. Stronger than anything I’ve ever felt for anyone in my life.”
I drew in a slow breath, trying to calm the rush of emotions inside me, hoping she could hear the sincerity in every word.
“I know a lot about emotions. It comes with what I do. I’ve felt them, carried them, and understood them in ways most people don’t.” My thumb brushed along her cheek, hoping she found comfort in the gesture. “But with you? You make me feel things I’ve never taken from anyone else. Things I can’t explain.”
I shook my head slightly, a faint, almost disbelieving smile tugging at my lips. “And if I’m being honest, I don’t want to. Logic be damned, I just want to feel them. So if you want to tell me, you can. You can trust me.”
