HERVOR WAS HER USUAL QUIET SELF when he stepped beside her. She practically sprinted to her feet when she saw him. Eotigan calmed her with a hand. Once again, this woman’s obedient aura stood out like a beacon to him.

He put a pin on receiving notifications of his [psyche bridge] and just admired her smaller frame for a bit. He’d seen so many pretty faces and fine bodies in his life, these days his dick got hard from submission.

Yep. He liked him a nice, quiet woman. A fat butt was an added advantage. And that trumped a face card in his book, any day.

Hervor was looking at him raptly, like he’d got a [Halo] shining right on top his head. But Eotigan knew that couldn’t be the case, so he drove his mind back into the present and gave her a long smile. He tried his best to tread on the line of platonic with her. Hervor just about licked the dust off his sandals, and the last thing he wanted was to come off as an insane, horned pervert. And while some, no, many might say he was exactly this, he did not desire to break Hervor’s heart.

"Thank you for waiting." He said to her. Obviously she could say nothing back, but she nodded and smiled to him too. Hers was longer, her face pink.

She let him see the blush for one second before she turned around and started off. He knew he shouldn’t have but he took a peek. Eotigan mumbled to himself, "damn... and she got a fat ass too."

If he were to measure in mortal years, Hervor was at least twenty years older. At least. But then she hung on his every word, was deliciously voluptuous—even though she tried to hide it all in the long dress, had silver hair like a waterfall, and didn’t talk. Eotigan felt compelled to add in the last part. Something about her being vocally disabled was hot. He loved to figure out stuff in her eyes and body language. Maybe more.

[DINNGGG!]

The shielded notifications pushed through the restraints in his mind. Apparently, Inaia was not having his cold shoulder in their telepathic connect. ’Fine. I guess I’ve punished you enough. I’ll listen.’ he mused. And more pinging flowed through his mind.

To Hervor and the outside world, they were simply two loners walking down a simple forest path. Hervor led in front. Behind, Eotigan listened to the notifications of his [subservíena] roll, basking in the smells of the jungle and the teasing of Hervor’s wide hips in her green dress.

[Psyche Bridge ENABLED—]

[SYSTEMS BRIEF | NOTARY THREE]

[ Mission I success! ]

[MISSION II: Commit ass-play with a Governor’s wife.]

"Ahh, so that was it," Eotigan spoke in his thoughts, "a Governor’s wife, huh?" Inwardly, he had to admit his infernal system ran smoothly as a sin system. Adultery was a capital sin, yet, his rise to the [Fifth Circle] now had been paved by the rugged stones of sacrilege. What’s one infidelity scandal among the elite, then. Angels got Blessings from doing righteous acts. Devils, got full orgasms from doing literally, evil.

It just so happened that any time he meant to do evil, get [soul coins], and in the process, level up, his unholy act ended up actually helping somebody.

It was an irony that was not funny, but funny. A villain perpetrating heroic deeds.

Fulfilling [Mission I] had never been about freeing the souls on Captain van Tuane’s ship, or rescuing the gold worth a nation’s treasury. Yet, in hijacking the vessel he had saved the cruisers a windfall north of the Cold Sea. [Mission I] had gotten him Thyra. A bad deed that did good in the end. Story of his life.

Now he was curious what completing Mission II could get him. Getting into close quarters with a Governor wouldn’t be easy. It was Governors who presided over all the annexed islands of the Corynthian gulf. Still, he had to get close enough to seduce the chosen Governor’s wife. And he above all knew what rich, beautiful women were about. He had seduced a sitting queen. It wasn’t that Eotigan thought he couldn’t do it; there were levels to this shit. His [Mission] could’ve been to get any married female, but a Governor’s wife?

It for sure was going to be testing. Nonetheless, great risk, great reward. A skip in step entered Eotigan’s gait as he trodded after Hervor. Plus he’d had enough of dancing huts and crococodile island.

He’d never complain of the Herculean troubles he had endured to get where he was. He was no bitch; breaking blue Nephilim skin was his pleasure. Up there in his list of fun things to do, right next to seducing married women. He didn’t have a [martial] netori rune for nothing. Rank S devil all the way. He made up his mind to get the girls to pack up once they got back to the village. He could complete Inaia’s punishment on the warship—in all the positions he willed.

Hervor had moved off the simple, winding path and taken to the wild bush. Eotigan noticed this when a palm frond nearly smacked him in the face.

"Ouch. Hervor?" He said this to make the woman smile. Leaves made of iron couldn’t hurt him.

It worked. Hervor turned, catching him smirking, and she took his right hand, leading him deeper through the evergreen foliage. She stopped at a clearing.

Eotigan came up behind her, his gold eyes taking in the new, brighter area. He said aloud, "is this a private beach?" Then he caught Hervor watching him and decided to tease the quiet cougar more. "Wow, silver fox, you really do know all the magical places. First you take me to a Hut on top of a white hill, now...you bring me to a circle of brown earth in the center of the jungle. Is there anything else up your long, swaddler sleeves?"

He moved in to tickle her.

Hervor chuckled, and her laughter made him laugh. For a female who didn’t talk, she sure made the cutest sounds. Eotigan imagined what her voice would be like—just off her vibe.

She ran barefoot on the soft humus of the forest clearing as he chased her around with a wide frond he’d plucked. Hervor kept laughing and swatting at his nudges. He quickly caught up to her, grabbing at her from the back and pulling her into him. "You have squirrel feet, huh," he said to her. She tried to shake free but only ended up turning around to face him. Despite being older and all curves, Hervor was half his height. And it showed profoundly up close.

She took her breaths of air off his chest. His broad, big, hairy, man chest.

"For a lady with this much silver in your hair, you sure don’t look it."

Eotigan touched her wealth of all-white locks as she settled her breathing. He knew she heard and understood him when she dropped her face into his shirt, hiding her flush. He moved to pull away and she let him, but not his hands.

Hervor stepped back a little, keeping her right hand linked with his. She moved her head back in one soft motion and her sweep of silver hair came down in a cascade, shadowing half of her beautiful face. Her free left hand came up to the large, top button on her green flannel dress and long, graceful fingers popped it.

She unfastened two more, and the whitest swan skin poured out into the rosy light of the forest.

"My God, Hervor." Eotigan choked. He was right when he’d made the assumption she was not from the Tropicana originally. The woman might be Half-fae.

Hervor popped another big button.

Eotigan’s jaw dropped.

She took her hands off his briefly and opened her dress to him like a parted robe. She was large and supple. Her full breasts peaked enticingly, fat and shaped as mounds. Hervor was a healthy, ripe sin. Her body was beyond good. She came in near, taking his hands again and bringing it up to her succulent boobs. Eotigan’s palm closed around the abundant flesh and he grunted, his Adam’s apple bobbing inconveniently. "H-Her...Hervor."

She guided him into her deep cleavage and over the robustness of her tatas; his fingers tweaked her swell nipples under her tutorship, Eotigan’s ringed iris fastened to the dark areolas. Hervor took the hand that had been all over her breasts to her mouth and licked his palm; she sucked in those hard fingers of his that had fondled her. Up and down. Slowly.

Her green eyes consumed him. His towering physique and manliness. And when Hervor freed his hand, Eotigan put his hand into her hair, fisting the brush of silver, soft as a towel. He bent her back and kissed her madly. Their tongues clashed and entered a frenzy, a new language only they understood. Hervor stayed pliant to his touch as his other hand pinched and pulled at her fat, red nipples under, his mouth frenching her deep. He took her lips again and again, catching her moans right out her throat.

Breathing hard, Hervor let him devour her neck and jaw and ears—all pinkened from potent use. Her one hand sank into his crimson hair as his hot mouth sought out her titties. Eotigan’s lips sucked her with rough ardor that had Hervor’s head falling back, her mouth kissed raw and open with no discernible sounds. In seconds she was quivering in his strong arms.

Pop!

Hervor pulled up his head from her breast. He spat on her. He slapped her tits. Beyond turned on, Hervor went down on her knees. She flung off his loin-guard and unleashed him. She did not use her hand on his heavy member, rather, she went below and sucked him whole into her sinful mouth.

He was hot and fat in her mouth. Filling. Surging. A satisfying mouthful.

Hervor had not the capability to speak, but from her thirsting, Eotigan could read she was ready for him, ready for a pipe-down. His hands were all over her as she sucked him. In her roughened clothes. On her back. In her immaculate hair. He gripped and pulled her up to look at him, spat in her face, rubbed her, dominated her, and Hervor; she tongued his balls, she sucked his curve, kissed his V-line, licked his lean pelvis, breathed his dick, bathed in his musk, tasted his salt; she sucked and sucked. They both needed the release. A first, then maybe they could go slow.

Eotigan, with a great groan pulled Hervor up his sprung penis.

Slop!

Her shiny mouth left him wetly.

But this silver fox was far from done; kneeling under him, her top-half exposed, Hervor licked her lips, put her face under his thick cock—his gleaming balls on her chin—and she opened her mouth. Wide. And she gave her best smile.

Involuntarily, Eotigan’s shaft bounced over her face, his engorged penis tapping against her full lips. "Oh, now you’ve done it, silver fox," his voice was low thunder, "now you’re gonna get it."