Page 55 of Monster's Secret Baby

When he's fully undressed, he lowers himself over me, skin against skin, and the familiar heat of him makes me gasp. He's always burned hotter than a human, his xaphan blood a furnace beneath bronze skin.

"I want to remember every inch of you," he says, his voice breaking slightly as he aligns our bodies. "Slow enough that neither of us forgets again."

When he enters me, the world narrows to this moment, this sensation. He moves with exquisite slowness, each thrust deep and purposeful. Our bodies remember this dance even as our minds struggle to reconcile past and present.

"Look at me," he commands softly when my eyes flutter closed. "Stay with me."

I obey, meeting his silver gaze, seeing the raw vulnerability there. This isn't the frantic coupling of before—driven by anger and desperation. This is something else entirely. Each movement is a confession, each gasp a forgiveness.

"I thought of this every night," I admit, my voice breaking as he shifts his angle, sending sparks of pleasure racing through me. "Even when I thought I shouldn't. I missed you more than I ever wanted to admit."

"I thought of you every second," he says, his rhythm never faltering. "You are my reason for existing."

His wings tremble as he moves within me, the moonlight catching on the feathers, creating a canopy of silver and shadow above us. One of his hands slides beneath me, lifting me closer to him, changing the angle until I cry out.

"There," he murmurs, satisfaction deepening his voice. "I remember what you need."

The pressure builds inside me with each deep, deliberate thrust. I cling to his shoulders, nails digging into bronze skin, feeling the powerful muscles work beneath my fingertips. The stars wheel overhead, witnesses to our reunion.

"I was wrong," I gasp as pleasure coils tighter within me. "So wrong about everything."

"Shh." He captures my confession with his mouth, kissing me deeply as he continues his relentless pace. "The past is dead. We're here now."

My release builds like a wave, higher and higher until I'm trembling beneath him, poised on the edge of something vast and overwhelming. When it breaks over me, I cry out his name like a prayer, my body arching against his. He holds me through it, his movements never ceasing, drawing out each pulse of pleasure until tears leak from the corners of my eyes.

"That's it, little bird," he whispers, his own voice strained with the effort of his control. "Let go. I've got you. Always had you."

Under the infinite expanse of stars, with the river's song as our witness, I know with absolute certainty that this man would tear apart worlds for me. That he already has.

I wrap my legs around Adellum's waist, pulling him deeper inside me as he rocks against me. The familiar rhythm of our bodies feels like coming home after being lost for so long. Time stretches and compresses around us—five years of separation dissolving into this perfect moment where nothing exists but his skin against mine and the stars wheeling overhead.

"You're perfect," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. His silver eyes never leave mine, holding me captive in his gaze as his hips drive forward. "So perfect, little bird. Made for me."

My breath catches at his words, at the reverence in his tone. For years I convinced myself that what we had wasn't real, that he had never truly wanted me. But the truth is written in every line of his face, in the trembling of his wings above us, in the desperate grip of his hands on my hips.

"Nothing was right without you," I confess, the words torn from somewhere deep within me. My fingers dig into the powerful muscles of his shoulders as he fills me completely. "No matter what I told myself, I was incomplete."

The admission costs me something—some final piece of armor I've been holding onto. But watching his expression crack open with raw emotion makes it worth it. His rhythm falters for just a moment, then resumes with renewed intensity.

"Say it again," he demands, his voice breaking. His wings create a silvery cocoon around us, shutting out the world.

"Nothing was ever right without you," I repeat, my voice stronger this time. I reach up to cradle his face, feeling the sharp edge of his jaw against my palm. "Not one single day in five years."

He groans, deep and primal, the sound vibrating through my body where we're joined. His movements become more urgent, more desperate, as if he could somehow make up for all our lost time with the force of his passion. The pressure builds inside me again, a coiling heat that threatens to consume everything.

"Harmony," he gasps, and I feel him swell within me. His wings snap fully open, magnificent and trembling in the moonlight as he drives deep one final time and spills inside me with a broken cry.

The sensation of his release triggers my own, waves of pleasure washing over me as I cling to him. For a moment, we're suspended in perfect synchrony, our bodies remembering what our minds had tried to forget.

Slowly, carefully, Adellum lowers himself beside me on the grass, gathering me against him. His arms encircle me possessively, one wing draping over us like a blanket of silver feathers. I nestle against his chest, listening to the thundering of his heart as it gradually slows. The night air should be cool against my damp skin, but I feel only warmth.

I recognize the sensation immediately—the gentle hum of his magic wrapping around me like an embrace. It's a subtle thing, this extension of his power—a shimmering layer of heat that envelops my bare skin and keeps the chill at bay. He used to do this for me during our stolen nights in New Solas, when we'd lie beneath the stars and pretend the world outside didn't exist.

"I missed this," I murmur, tracing idle patterns across his chest. "Your magic always felt like a second embrace."

He tightens his hold on me, pressing his lips to my temple. "It remembers you. Magic has memory—it knows what it's meant to protect."

I close my eyes, savoring the familiar sensation. His magic feels like sunshine distilled, like the warmth of a hearth after coming in from a storm. It cocoons around me, seeping into my very bones, chasing away not just the physical chill but something deeper—the cold emptiness I've carried inside me for five years.

---