Chapter 147: What shall we do?

"Illai, you know how to play the electric guitar?"

In her impression, both young snakes had been deployed straight to 616 the moment they emerged from their gestation pods.

Illai, currently smoothing out a fresh bedsheet, tilted his chin up with a touch of pride. "Of course. Self-taught."

He had swapped out the sheet out of fear that Bunny might find the previous one unhygienic.

Bunny remained silent. Right, so she was the only one biologically cursed with absolute tone-deafness. She truly despised these prodigies.

After Orion finished blow-drying her hair, he meticulously ran a comb through the strands. Gathering a stray ball of her fallen hair, he quietly slipped it into his pocket, planning to weave a tiny braid once he collected enough.

The soft glow of the floor lamp spilled across the carpet. Bunny reclined lazily inside a cat-claw armchair, while Orion sat cross-legged beside her, attentively massaging her calves.

Nearby, Illai lightly plucked at the guitar strings.

His pale, lean fingers glided over the frets. Framed by long, drooping eyelashes, his side profile was striking; rather than unleashing a torrent of fiery rock, he softly strummed a gentle, lingering melody. The music swayed like a cool summer evening breeze, lifting the sheer curtain by the window and sweeping across his beloved’s face.

Bunny lowered the Guide Manual in her hands, her eyes drifting toward the guitarist. Both Illai and Orion possessed crisp, elegant contours along the bridges of their noses and lip lines—lacking the harsh aggressiveness of the other Sentinels while carrying a touch more gentleness.

She couldn’t resist playing "spot the difference" once again.

This time, she caught it: Illai sported one extra tattoo compared to Orion. Good—now she wouldn’t mix them up in the future.

Closing her eyes, Bunny allowed her senses to submerge completely into the musical waves.

Just as she drifted toward the edge of sleep, a warm, humid breath brushed against her ear:

"Bunny... time to sleep."

Her center of gravity suddenly yielded as Illai’s arm swept beneath her knees, scooping her up into a horizontal carry before placing her onto the mattress. Orion switched off the main light, plunging the room into shadow.

The freshly changed sheets carried the crisp scent of natural soap, alongside the converging aromas of fir and pine needles pressing in from both sides.

The mattress dipped beneath their heavy frames. Stray locks of hair scattered across her cheeks as she tumbled against a warm, solid chest.

Moist, gentle kisses rained down upon her brow, then her eyelids, nose, and cheeks—like soft summer rain pattering down, lingering briefly at the corner of her lips.

Then, the sweet, crisp taste of moss and pine melted into her mouth, trading warmth between supple tongues in an earnest, endearing attempt to please.

Ragged breaths spilled through their tangled lips. Deprived of oxygen, her fingertips scraped restlessly across the broad, solid expanse of his back muscles before her wrist was caught, guided down along the prominent veins tracing his lower abdomen.

Orion’s breathing turned heavy and coarse; he had yearned for this moment for an eternity.

Day and night. From the evening starlight to the pale breaking of dawn.

The sun rose day after day, casting its descent across the glass panes of his quarters.

He felt that, in essence, he was no different from this solitary Sentinel Tower anchored within the quarantine zone. Both were stranded at the frayed edges of the world, forced to accept isolation, loneliness, and a predetermined fate.

His barren soil could never cultivate vibrant flowers; yet whenever he gazed up at the sun, the stars, and the moon, he still harbored a fragile hope for a single bird to pause its flight for him.

Primal desire escalated rapidly beneath the touch of bare skin. The sheets rumpled into chaotic folds, rising and falling in rhythm beneath her damp, trembling palms.

...

The mattress behind her sank once more, pulling her back into a second, equally scorching embrace. Calloused fingertips pinched her chin, and a fierce, fir-scented kiss descended without warning.

Wild, tempestuous, and unyielding—it surged deep within.

Sweet moisture tangled between their tongues, recklessly plundering everything that belonged to her. The man’s palms were rough and feverish, his long fingers pressing firmly into her soft skin.

Illai finally released her lips, pressing close against her spine as a trail of glistening marks descended down her nape. He buried his face against her shoulder, inhaling her scent deeply; when he opened his eyes again, their crimson depths swirled with a chaotic storm of raw longing.

As the dense clouds parted, rain from the ocean and snow from the peaks converged in a long-awaited embrace.

The two seemed inherently wired to understand how to bring a woman pleasure.

While Bunny was still trying to manage Orion, Illai’s playful interference left her completely pliable, stripped of all defenses.

"Illai, you..."

Her reprimand, voiced in a soft, breathless murmur, sounded more like deliberate flirtation.

Illai paused his mischievous hand beneath the covers, a wicked grin curling at the corner of his lips. He extended a damp finger, bringing it to his own mouth with a slow, deliberate movement.

His voice rasped low and coarse: "Bunny, I want it too..."

The dark magnified every sensory detail, amplifying the subtle shifts around them into a predatory force, threatening to consume her whole.

With Illai acting like this, maintaining focus was entirely out of the question.

Soft, satisfied gasps spilled through the dark. When excitement peaked, he buried his face to lightly nip at her earlobe.

Casting a glance toward his brother, he teased with a wicked edge:

"But my brother looks like he’s having a tough time..."

He blew a soft, warm breath into her ear, his tone equal parts playful and mischievous:

"There’s only one of you, Bunny... whatever shall we do?"

Stunned by his brazen words, a vivid flush spread across her face.

Illai’s warm breath still lingered against her ear when Orion’s hand closed around her wrist, guiding it lower. The thick, heavy length of him pulsed against her palm—hot, rigid, already slick at the tip. A low, rough sound tore from Orion’s throat as her fingers curled around him, stroking once, twice. His hips jerked forward into her fist.

To be continued...