57 Oh, Baby

Bel

Adrenaline pumped through his body, hand reaching for the weapon that should be right next to his cot—

Lily grumbled under her breath, shifting to a more comfortable position before relaxing once more.

Lily.

Home.

Safe.

Bel sucked in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, trying to steady his racing heart and thoughts, then let it out slowly. He dropped his head back down on the pillow, reaching to settle his hand over Lily’s hip, her solid warmth acting as an anchor as he repeated the process until his heart no longer thudded out of control. The morning light was golden instead of gray, but it still felt too early.

The buzzing phone that had jolted him awake stopped, only to resume a couple seconds later. It was coming from his side table, he realized, rolling onto his stomach to reach for it, blindly tapping on the screen and holding it to his ear.

“What?” he grunted, dropping his forehead onto the pillow.

“Sariah had the baby!” Asmodeus whisper-yelled.

Sariah. Baby. Had—HAD?

Bel’s head snapped up, all the residual panic of waking up blown away by his excitement. He pushed himself up to a sitting position. “Really?” He shook Lily, heart racing for a much better reason.

She rolled over, squinting grumpily at him.

“Sariah had the baby.” Bel grinned.

Lily bolted up with a gasp, and he put the call on speaker.

Asmodeus’s pride and awe filled every word. “Osmodai was born exactly two hours and nine minutes ago, and he looked so gross and so beautiful. Bel, nothing that slimy and squished up should be that beautiful , but he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Sariah was a fucking badass. She did so well, birthed a whole baby, and didn’t even yell. I married all the way up. And she only threatened to kill the healers twice. Mom and baby are both doing great—”

An earsplitting wail cut him off, followed by Sariah’s soothing murmur and the unintelligible words of a healer.

“He’s not thrilled that the healers took him to get measured. The kid’s got some lungs on him,” Asmodeus said, and Bel could practically see his cousin beaming with pride. “Sariah and I talked about it, and do you guys want to visit us around noon? I want you to meet your new coolest nephew.”

Bel’s throat grew tight. He cleared it roughly, only for it to immediately close again. Cousins they might technically be, but he and Asmodeus had always been more like brothers, and he was so proud of and happy for his brother that he could burst. He just couldn’t fucking speak. It was more than just excitement that had him speechless, it was the wave of hope that blindsided him.

Lily kissed his shoulder and rested her cheek on it, her hand rubbing soothing circles over his back as she answered for him.

“We’d love to.” Her voice was suspiciously choked as well. “Do you guys need anything?”

“Just bring yourselves,” Asmodeus said, his voice fading as if he moved the phone away from his face for a second. When his spoke again it was hushed, like he was trying to be secretive. “Actually, can you guys bring Sariah a cinnamon mocha from Common Grounds? No whip. She gave up coffee during pregnancy, but I asked the healers earlier, and it’s okay if she has some now.”

“Of course we can,” Bel rasped, wiping at his eyes with a corner of the sheet. “Do you need anything?”

“I’m good.”

“Allow me to rephrase, do you want anything?”

There was a beat of silence, then, softly, wondrously, “Bel, I’m a dad . I’m here and I’m a dad.”

A tear ran hot down Bel’s cheek. He got it. After so much horror and pain and grief, it was hard to wrap his mind around the fact that they were home.

He’d had one of those moments the night before, while they’d all been watching a movie after dinner, and Lily and Sharkie had both cried on him. Such a normal thing, in theory, to watch a movie with his new little family, but he’d had a brief moment of wondering if it was real, if he was actually there, relaxing in his sweatpants, holding Lily, holding Sharkie, a cat on his lap, no battles to fight. He’d had to consciously accept that moment, to grieve that such a thing was no longer as easy for him to enjoy as it once had been. Perhaps it had been the sheer brutality of the war that had it affecting him more than previous ones had, or maybe it was because he’d had so much more to lose this time. But he understood Asmodeus’s awe at just being alive and here.

Asmodeus had practically burst into flames with excitement when they’d found out Sariah was pregnant. When he’d called Bel, he’d still been so excited that Bel had barely understood a word coming out of his mouth. On every training mission, Asmodeus had a picture of Sariah with her increasing baby bump, and would regale everyone with what fruit the baby was of a comparable size to. He’d doted on Sariah to the extent that she’d let him. He and Sariah both liked to cook, but he’d tried to take over more days, and when the smell of a certain food made her gag, he’d banished it from their house as if it had personally offended him. When Sariah had gotten a craving for that exact food three weeks later, he’d hurried out to get plenty of it. He’d only groused a little bit when some of her cravings resulted in culinary nightmares, like the time she cheerfully stuffed chocolate chips into black olives.

Asmodeus had agonized over finding the softest socks and knit caps in the baby stores. He had, on more than one occasion, dragged a committee of his friends, Bel included, with him to get multiple opinions. They’d made a hilarious picture—half a dozen massive demon warriors, still in their training gear, huddled together among the racks of itty-bitty clothes, arguing over which onesie was of superior quality.

“You made it, Azzy,” Bel said. The words too small for what they meant. “Go hold your son and wife. We’ll see you at noon.”

Shortly after they’d hung up, a picture had arrived of a tiny bundle in a blanket with a scrunched-up face, tiny pointed ears, and wispy, dark hair plastered to his head. The little bumps where his horns would someday grow were barely visible. Osmodai’s little face and the single chubby fist they could see were a reddish gray, and his eyes were closed, keeping their color a secret. Bel ghosted his fingers over the screen, awed as he always was at each new addition to their family.

“That nose is all Sariah,” Lily murmured warmly.

“Mm, he got Azzy’s mouth though. I love the little newborn cone head,” Bel mused, an envious pang shooting through his chest.

At that realization, he glanced over at Lily, knowing how badly she’d wanted that for herself too. Still wanted. She looked up from the screen and met his eyes, confusion flickering across her face before understanding set in.

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “I’m where I want to be and I’m happy. Are you happy?”

Bel smiled at her, thinking of how Sharkie would have been with younger siblings. “I’m happy.” He kissed her forehead. “You would have looked amazing pregnant though.”

Old grief ghosted over her face, his heart ached for her, for them. Then he watched as she drew on that inner strength that so amazed him.

Her smile went impish. “Well, obviously . You wouldn’t have been able to keep your hands off me.”

“Like I can keep my hands off you now ?”

She had the audacity to hum doubtfully, taking the phone from him and setting it aside. “The effort I have to put in to get your attention,” she tsked, and he smirked, lacing his hands behind his head to wait for the rest. “Breathing in your direction? Objectifying you when you look good? Sleeping naked ? All you have to do is exist vaguely in my orbit, and I’m off to name a newly formed river.”

Bel raised his eyebrows. “Well,” he said slowly, scooting down to lay flat. “Breathing in my direction is unnecessary. Just breathing is enough. I can’t have all your effort going to waste and making you feel unappreciated. So, here’s what I want you to do: Come ride my face.”

“Is that all?” Lily asked, already pushing the sheet back and crawling towards him, breasts swaying temptingly. “But I’m breathing and naked.”

“Ah, yes. Double the effort, double the reward,” he murmured, capturing her waist in his hands and laving a nipple with his tongue before giving it a leisurely suck that made her arch and gasp. He released her, skimming his nose up her neck. “I want you to hold the headboard and ride my face. Then I’m going to fuck you—lovingly—until you come again.”

He pulled her legs to straddle his head, shifting so that the tips of his horns would press into the mattress and not threaten her thighs. She caught herself, grabbing the headboard with a laugh. He smirked, lightly pulled her down to his mouth and went to work.

True to her word, she was drenched, and he ran his tongue along her in a single sweep from ass to clit, savoring the taste of her. It was a drug, she was a drug, and his cock throbbed as he flicked his tongue over her clit, her thighs clenching on either side of his head. Too fucking far away…

He gripped her pretty ass with both hands and pulled her down . Much better. He teased her entrance with his tongue before stiffening it and thrusting it inside, fucking her with it. Her resulting moan went straight to his cock. He half considered freeing up one of his hands to give it a stroke but reconsidered as she lifted herself up. He needed his hands.

He nipped the inside of her thigh, growling. “Get back down here.”

“You need…to breathe,” she panted above him. “And I don’t want to wake Sharkie up.”

“Then let’s be nice and quiet.” He tugged her back down. More. Always need more. “And I’ll fucking tap if I need to breathe. I want you to come on my face. Now sit.”

He lost himself in pleasuring her with his lips and tongue, gauging what made her simply gasp and what made her muffle her cries with a hand. When her thighs started trembling, he nearly came undone. He pumped two fingers deep into her clenching heat, curling them to press against the spot that always made her make one of those breathy gasping cries at the same moment that he sucked her clit, flicking it with his tongue once, twice—

Lily came apart above him, one hand clutching the headboard, the other clamped firmly over her mouth, muffling but not muting the delicious sound of her orgasm. Bel kept pumping his fingers as her slick muscles clenched rhythmically around them, kept working her clit with gentle taps of his tongue, prolonging her climax until she fought to pull herself upwards.

He relented with a kiss on each of her inner thighs, lifting her and guiding her to lay on top of him. She pushed herself up to kiss him, no doubt tasting herself as she stroked her tongue along his and nipped at his lower lip. He took a careful fistful of her hair and angled her head back, kissing along her jawline.

He held her close as he sat up, carefully twisted so as not to catch his wings, and rolled her back down, catching her laugh with his mouth. She twined her arms around his neck, pebbled nipples brushing against his chest and driving him even more insane for her, and gasped as he drove into her in one smooth stroke.

The first slide of being inside her always felt like molten lava was surging up his spine. Wet, hot, tight, inside Lily was his favorite place to be. They fit each other perfectly.

Her hazel eyes were dazed when they met his, her pretty lips parted as she panted, a smile curling the corners of her mouth. He braced one forearm on the bed to keep from crushing her, sliding his other hand down the center of her chest, over her navel, slowing as his palm moved over her lower stomach. He imagined it rounding slightly, imagined it growing, full with their child, and his hips pressed him deeper inside her.

He looked up at her, worried that he’d overstepped, made it awkward, made it sad, but saw what he felt reflected in her eyes. She moved a hand between them to cover his.

“I wouldn’t have been able to keep my hands off of you if I was pregnant,” she said with a little smile.

“Like you can keep your hands off of me now?” he sassed, sliding their hands a little lower on her abdomen, pressing just slightly and giving a slow thrust that had both of them catching their breath. Her hand left his, clutching at his hip, pulling him into her.

They found their rhythm, slow and heady, each stroke sending ecstatic pleasure crackling throughout his body. A flush worked its way up her skin, from her chest up to her cheeks, her nails digging into his skin, the little hitch in her breath that always happened right before she came apart around him. She arched up, her body going taut as she buried her face in his neck. He followed her right over the edge, hips stuttering in their rhythm, release crashing through him like a tide, pumping—

The door swung open.

On reflex, Bel dropped flat, intending to cover Lily’s nakedness and hide their joining, his wings sweeping out in a mantling gesture. There was an odd croaking noise in his ear, but he barely processed it once he realized who stood in the doorway.