Page 43 of The Monster's Daughter
I don’t push.
I’m just grateful to be here at all. Grateful to be anywhere that isn’t war and ash and ghosts.
Bella takes me walking along the coast at sunset.
The air smells of salt and synth-fruit, the waves crashing against the rocks below in a rhythm that pulls at my chest. The light is golden, soft, almost too perfect. Glimner’s artificial sky bleeds color in ways no natural one ever could, but it’s beautiful all the same.
She leads me to a narrow ledge above a waterfall, the spray dampening our skin, mist curling around us. We sit in silence for a long time, just listening to water thunder into the depths.
She speaks. Her voice is low, rough, like it’s been waiting years to crawl out of her throat.
“I thought you were dead.”
I nod slowly, gaze fixed on the horizon. “I was.”
Her laugh is sharp, bitter. She leans against me, head just brushing my arm. “I kept thinking… if I had just stayed… maybe?—”
“No.” My voice cuts through hers, firm, certain. I turn to her, catching her green eyes in mine. “You saved me. You saved everyone. I never blamed you.”
For a heartbeat, she almost smiles. The edges of her mouth twitch, the lines at her eyes soften. But there’s something else there too. A shadow. A secret. Something she isn’t telling me.
I let it go. For now.
That night, the silence between us burns too hot.
We don’t speak. We just move—slow, aching, desperate. Her skin is warm against mine, her hair tangling in my claws as I hold her close. It isn’t just desire—it’s grief, it’s longing.
When she gasps my name, it isn’t a plea. It’s a confession.
When I whisper hers, it isn’t a call. It’s a vow.
We undress each other with reverence, like every inch of skin uncovered is a prayer. My claws carefully undo the clasp of herdress, dragging it down her curves inch by inch. Her red hair glows like flame in the moonlight, her green eyes watching me like I’m something sacred.
“You’re shaking,” I murmur.
“I’m not scared,” she breathes. “I’m ready.”
I lift her, easily, cradling her naked form in my arms. Her pussy is already slick, the scent of her arousal making my cock throb. I lay her down on the mossy ledge above the waterfall, the sound of rushing water surrounding us like a heartbeat.
Her fingers trail down my chest, tracing the silver markings along my black scales. “You’re beautiful,” she whispers. “You always were.”
I lower myself over her, my cock heavy between us. I kiss her slowly, tongue exploring her mouth while my hand drifts down to tease her slit. She’s so wet. So ready.
“Kage,” she gasps, hips lifting.
I slide a clawed finger inside her, careful, slow. She moans, her pussy clenching around me.
“You’re mine,” I growl.
“Then take me,” she moans. “Please.”
I replace my finger with my cock, guiding the thick head to her entrance. She gasps as I push in, inch by inch, stretching her wide.
“Fuck, you’re big,” she whimpers.
“I’ll go slow,” I promise, even as my control frays.
Her legs wrap around my waist. I sink deeper. She arches, her body trembling as I fill her completely.
