A/N: We're back. Finally!

I had to work out a bunch of things for this story and ended up changing some things thanks to onceuponaprincessworld (and her historical knowledge) when she pointed out something I hadn't considered before. Be prepared for the loss of some minor characters (not by death) over the next couple of chapters or so, and a possible gain of some new ones. Thank you, everyone, for sticking with this story. I hope you enjoy this chapter. And be aware, this story has taken a fluffy turn! ;)

Emma is lulled to sleep with only the blithe thoughts of giving birth to the Sultan's son. Their son. Holding him in her arms, gazing upon him in wonderment, softly caressing his cheek with her thumb. Her heart is full, and she couldn't possibly be happier. Well, she could if her parents and brother were here to meet Prince Liam. But she is confident she will reunite with them someday. She will make it happen.

Waking that afternoon, she forgets briefly of giving birth that morning. But when her hand migrates to her belly, which is much flatter than it was only yesterday, a sudden feeling of loss rushes through her upon realizing her baby is no longer in her womb. Nor is her baby in her arms. Panic bubbles up inside her when she realizes Liam's not in her arms, and her eyes flip open as she searches the room with heavy-lidded eyes. The warm, radiant sun almost blinds her as it pours into her apartment, a vast contrast to the stormy weather that had cast over Neverland early that morning.

Relief instantly swarms her heart once she spots the cradle next to her bed, and her little prince sleeping soundly, his tiny hands curled into fists on either side of his head. Emma manages a drowsy smile as she watches him sleep. It still amazes her how handsome he is, not that it should. He has the genes of a Neverland Sultan. Emma had seen paintings of the former Sultans. Killian's father, grandfather, great grandfather, great-great-grandfather and so forth. He comes from a long line of handsome, masculine men, tall with dark hair and those drowning, sea-blue eyes. Those were the signature traits passed down through the generations of Neverland Sultans. And now to her son.

Emma watches Liam sleeping from where she lay on the bed, not wishing to disturb him. He's had much excitement this morning with visitors skittering in and out of her chamber to swoon over him and congratulate Emma on the safe delivery of her child, bearing gifts and food and beautiful flowers in jewel-studded pots.

After a few blissful moments of staring at her son in silence, hot tears stinging her eyes—joyful tears—Liam stirs in his cradle and cries. Maternal instincts overcome her, and she wants to push herself up and hurry to her baby, but her body is sore and she's still feeling cramps, which her midwife has informed her is normal after delivery.

"Don't even think about moving, my love."

Killian's voice startles her, and she whirls her head around to see her Sultan getting up from the divan, his hair disheveled, eyes glazed over with sleep. He'd stayed in her chamber while she and Liam had slept.

He hurries over and carefully picks up his son, cradling him against his chest with a hand splayed on his newborn's little back and dropping a kiss on his head. Liam's wails grow in volume and intensity, breaking Emma's heart in two as she watches his features crinkle in distress.

A low chuckle escapes Killian's throat as he strides over to Emma's bedside, rocking Liam gently in his arms. "I believe Prince Liam is hungry." He strokes his son's hair, whispering, "No worries, little lad, your mum is right here," before transferring Liam to Emma's arms. He sits on the bed next to her and reclines back, careful not to disturb his son as Liam eagerly awaits his meal.

When she places him at her breast, he easily latches on. During his first feeding fresh from the womb, he did this instinctively, something she and Killian had joked about as she fumbled to hold him.

Emma laughs as she watches her son in wonderment. "You were right, he was hungry."

Killian wraps an arm around her shoulders, kissing her temple. "And you, my love, were right about our baby being a boy."

Emma nods. "It matters not though. He is perfectly healthy, and that's all I care about."

"Me too, love," he beams, placing a kiss on her forehead. "Me too."

When Emma lifts her gaze, her heart flutters as she sees the enchanting look in Killian's eyes from watching his wife feed their son. They exchange doe-eyed looks and warm smiles as they listen to their baby suckling happily.

There's a knock on the door, and Emma permits the visitor into the chamber. It's Elsa, appearing apologetic when she sees Killian with her.

"My apologies, my lady, I didn't mean to interrupt. I could hear the prince crying and wanted to ensure you were awake."

"Thank you, Elsa," Emma says, lifting her head to look at her. "I woke just before he did."

She beams. "Must be a Mother's intuition that woke you."

"Yes, I suppose so," Emma chuckles lightly.

"May I get you anything?"

Emma shakes her head. "No, I am fine."

She looks at Killian, asking him the same.

Killian dons a big smile as he gazes at his wife and son. "No, I have everything I need right here with me."

Elsa smiles and blushes. "Of course, Your Majesty." With that, she bows and backs out of the chamber, closing the doors behind her.

After Elsa takes her leave, Emma slides her attention to Liam. "It will never cease to amaze me how beautiful he is." Her eyes are trained on her son, but she can sense her husband's big, toothy grin; she can hear it when he speaks.

"Ah, so you can understand how I feel whenever I look at you, my love."

Emma's heart flutters at his words, blush painting her cheeks. "You flatter me, Killian," she laughs.

The twinkle in his eyes is unapologetic. "It's true, Emma." He leans in, gently taking her chin in his hand and capturing her delicate lips. Warmth clouds her heart and she surrenders to him, letting him kiss her tenderly and softly as they share a few brief moments of savoring each other's lips, each other's taste. Emma's sure her breath is horrid, but he didn't seem to mind in the least.

After Liam's feeding, she lays him against her shoulder with a cloth laid between them and gently pats his back to coax a burp from him.

The Sultan smiles tenderly as he watches them. He has that look in his bright blue eyes, that look which tells her he could watch his Bas-Kadin and son forever without ever growing bored. "I have brought you some gifts, my love," he says after she's finished burping their son, wiping some spit-up from his mouth.

Emma offers a tired smile as he pulls out a leather box, proffering it to her. Taking it in her free hand, he scoops their son in his arms and drops a kiss to his head, holding him as she opens her gift. Liam is much happier now that he's been fed and burped, and he wraps his tiny hand around his Papa's finger, a perfectly content look on his face.

She raises the lid and gasps. Nestled in the velvet is a gold ring with a large emerald stone. "It's beautiful," she breathes, sliding the ring on her finger.

"It matches your lovely eyes," he says with a grin. "I made it myself… and also something else." He hands her a thin gold chain with a round medallion half worked in a delicate filigree of open, criss-cross gold. The other half is intricately carved gold in the shape of a quarter moon.

Fingering it gently, she hears the tiny bells attached to the openwork tinkle. "You honor me, My Sultan. The medallion and ring are even more precious to me because it was your own hands that crafted them."

"There are more gifts to come, my love, but they can wait until you're more rested."

Arching a brow, Emma scans his face incredulously. "There's more?"

He nods. "Of course. You are the mother of my heir, Emma. You're my wife, my Queen. If I could, I'd make it official. I'd marry you today, in front of all the folk of Neverland. I only want to do you honor, from now until I take my final breath."

Emma's eyes glisten with tears. She would marry him in a heartbeat, but she knows it's not possible. No woman has ever married a Sultan. It's strictly forbidden.

With the hand not holding their precious son, Killian strokes her cheek as a single tear slides down her face, and he brushes it away with his thumb. "I love you, Emma. I adore you and cherish you."

"I love you, too, Killian." Her voice cracks as she leans in and kisses his lips. Her heart blooms as she feels her son nestled between them.

She wishes they lived somewhere else, somewhere they could marry and raise their children as normal couples do. But here, they'd have to abide by the traditions of the empire. Emma wonders what it would take to break such traditions and what struggles they'd have to endure. She imagines she'd have to first convert to Killian's religion because if she did that, she couldn't be a woman of his harem, she would have to be officially freed from servitude. No woman who practices the sacred law of Neverland can be a slave, and according to this law, a woman shan't lay with a man outside of wedlock unless she is a bondswoman whose soul has not found the true path. If she were to stay with the Sultan after converting, the only solution would be to get married. But how would the people of the empire react? They certainly wouldn't take too kindly of their Sultan getting married and banishing his harem, would they? Emma puts those thoughts aside for the time being and relishes the quiet moments with her two boys.

After wrapping a long, silk fabric around Emma's eyes, Killian takes Liam from her, holding him securely, the infant's head laying on his father's warm chest. Killian's heart bursts whenever he holds the adorable boy he created with his beautiful Swan.

He takes her hand, threading his fingers through hers as he leads her through the palace. As a blushing mother, she's as elegant as ever before. Though she's young, she took on her maternal duties with great pride; she's a keen learner of everything motherhood entails. His mother became her confidant for matters regarding child-rearing, and he loves that they get along now.

Kira had welcomed Emma to motherhood with open arms and often invites his Bas-Kadin to her apartment for sherbets and cakes. This development has caused tension between Kira and her daughter, for Regina hates that her mother puts Emma before her own flesh and blood, but Killian knows she won't try to pull any antics. Regina's time here in the palace is hanging by a short string. He's delayed marrying her off, but only for the time being while he's focused on being a father and preparing to go to war. If Emma and Liam weren't going with him, he would've banished her from the palace already because he doesn't trust leaving his beloved Bas-Kadin and son with his sister.

"Where are we going?" she asks him with an apprehensive smile.

"I told you, love, I have more gifts to present you with."

The Sultan's personal quarters—the selamlik—are separated from the Harem by a single door. It leads from his bedroom onto a cloister and then a maze of courts and dormitories that had once belonged to the pages and eunuchs of his retinue. Now it leads directly to Emma's apartments where she and their son will be closer to his quarters. He wants to be close by at all times whenever he's not with them.

After motioning to the guards, they fling the doors open and, still holding onto Emma's hand, Killian leads her inside the reception room of her new suite and removes the blindfold from her eyes.

"Welcome, my love, to your new abode."

Her eyes widen in delight as she takes in her new surroundings. Directly facing them is a small fountain, and each wall of the room holds a door.

"The eunuchs guarding you are quartered there," he says pointing to the left. "Your female attendants will be here."

A set of double doors opens to a charming salon adorned with copper lamps, rainbow silks and velvets of the cushions and draperies, and colorful rugs spread over the floor. In the center of the room is a chessboard made of ebony and mother-of-pearl inlaid squares, its pieces carved from black onyx and white coral. Emma beams as she admires the beautiful work of art that lay on a table between two chairs. She claps her hands and spins around to look at him, excitement dancing in her eyes. "Can we play this evening?"

Killian chuckles. "Yes, my love, it's been far too long since you've defeated me at our favorite game."

Emma laughs whimsically and they continue through the salon, a fire blazing merrily in a round fireplace, warming the room and casting a reflection off a glass door which leads to a colonial porch and garden that hangs over the sea.

Recognition flickers in her eyes as they walk along one of the many paths weaving through the garden—the garden which resembles her mother's.

The path leads them to a pool with a small waterfall, and she's visibly stunned. "How did you…" A tear spills down her cheek. "How did you know..." She's suddenly at a loss for words, her mouth hanging open, her emerald green irises glinting with nostalgia. He'd planted the flowers himself and designed every detail of the garden.

He'd been a busy man for the final two months of Emma's pregnancy. He had to keep his hands busy and his mind occupied ever since he discovered his Grand Vizier—his best friend—had betrayed him. It's still difficult to swallow, but he tries not to ponder it too much, for he doesn't wish to darken his Swan's mood by burdening her with his pain. He wants Emma to enjoy this time as a new mother, though he knows she holds some resentment for her uncle and worries deeply for her family in Misthaven. She hadn't heard from her father since he left, so she took the liberty to pen him a letter, announcing the birth of the prince they've named after Killian's brother. She'd expressed her concern for them and Leo and wished them the best before handing off the letter to the messenger.

"Remember when we met, my darling?" He surely will never forget the first time he laid his eyes upon her face and her naked form as she bathed. She was exquisite. She still is. "Remember how you told me the garden by the pool reminded you of your mother's?"

Emma manages a nod, still bewildered as she admires her new garden. "How could I forget?"

"Well, while I led your father to my ship, I asked him to describe the garden to me, and he did with impressive detail." Killian also asked David for his daughter's hand in marriage, and he said yes, as long as he, her mother and Leo were present at the wedding. Killian eagerly agreed. Now he waits until Emma's ready and willing to accept her fate as Queen of Neverland and the duties which accompany that unique role. She'd mentioned her earlier plans to rule the empire, but that was before she knew him, when she had a different agenda. Now her love for him is pure and true, and in his heart, he already sees her as his wife, his partner, his everything, not a slave; so whether he makes it official makes no difference to him. He will love her just as deeply. And he doesn't wish to influence Emma or coerce her into converting to a different religion. He wants her to make that choice on her own. He hopes he'd planted the idea of marriage, though, when he mentioned an official wedding, but she hadn't spoken of it since, so neither had he.

"If it's too painful for you, I can change it," he offers.

"No, please don't," she replies breathlessly, turning around to face him. "It's perfect." Her eyes glisten with tears, a gleeful smile spreading across her face as she throws her arms around him, Liam snuggled between them. "Thank you," she whispers in his ear, holding him and Liam tight.

"You're welcome, my love." He strokes her cheek with his free hand when she presses her forehead to his. "I only wish to make you happy," he murmurs huskily, gazing into the emerald depths of her eyes. If you're not, then what is my purpose in life? I'd rather die than see you or Liam unhappy."

"How did I get so lucky to have a man like you?"

A solemn expression clouds his face. "I wouldn't say the road you took to get here was very lucky."

"I'd take that road a thousand times over as long as it means I get you and Liam. You're both my family, Killian. I would never change that."

Killian's heart flutters as he offers a weak smile and kisses her lips. "I love you, Emma."

"I love you, too."

"Come, let me show you to your bedroom." He takes her hand again and leads her back through the salon to her bed-chamber. There's an enormous canopy bed on an elevated gilded dais and Liam's cradle sits next to the bed.

Killian leads her to the attached room, where Liam's nursery is. A crib sits in the middle of the room, the polished wooden bars adorned with blue silk, and there's a nursery chair next to the crib for Emma to feed her infant or croon to him.

She spins around, her eyes twinkling at the lengths Killian went to ensure she and their son are safe and comfortable in their new quarters. "You have no idea how many gifts you've just given me," she beams, smothering his cheek with kisses. He knows she's not simply speaking of the tactile gifts. He'd given her a home, another family, and endless love that will last forever, even beyond his death.

Killian's heart swells as he gazes deeply into her gleaming green eyes. He wants to offer her more. So much more. "I have one more gift for you, Swan." He smirks and tilts his head. "Well, actually two." He calls for Nemo, who appears a few seconds later, holding a tray.

Emma's on the verge of bursting into happy sobs when her eyes fall upon a beautifully carved leather saddle. "Killian? You didn't?"

He grins and leads her outside to a terrace where a eunuch is holding the bridle of a white mare with a beautiful, sleek coat.

Emma's eyes marvel over the horse. "She's lovely! Is she mine?"

Killian nods. He'd wanted to present the horse to her sooner, but he didn't wish to torture her with the prospect of riding again while she was pregnant and unable to ride. "She is, my love. Her name is Luna. I hope you will join me for a stride through the woods when you're up to it."

Pure, utter joy creases every beautiful feature of her face as she approaches the horse and extends her hand. Luna moves her head in to sniff her hand, while Emma fondly pets the horse's nose with her other hand. "Hi, Luna."

Killian chuckles at how adorable she is; he doesn't know the last time he'd seen a woman look so close to fainting with joy. "See how easy it is for your mum to make friends?" he whispers to his son, gently kissing his forehead. "You are one lucky prince to have a mother as incredible as she is." He reverts his gaze to Emma and watches in admiration as she and Luna interact like they're reuniting after being apart for so long.

Luna touches Emma's face with her nose, and Emma giggles and speaks to her in a soothing tone, running her palm over her soft coat. "Good girl." After a minute, she turns to face her husband again and wraps her arms around him and Liam, pulling them into an enormous hug and whispering in her Sultan's ear. "Thank you, Killian. You do not understand how much this means to me."

Oh, but he does. He understands completely; he knows his lovely swan deep down to her bones.

Emma enjoys her new quarters; she enjoys her space and spending time in her beautiful garden. Her garden, which reminds the Bas-Kadin of her mother. It makes Emma miss her family more deeply, and she's eager to hear from them. It's made her lying-in period even more difficult to cope with.

She's also grown anxious for other things. Being cooped up in her apartment isn't so bad when she has the company of her little prince, but she aches for Killian. He spends time with them whenever he can but she needs him. She needs his firm hands all over her, needs him plunging into her, making her come undone until they're both breathless, drenched in sweat and thoroughly sated. It's been far too long since they've made love. And now she is ready, more than she ever has been before.

"Nemo, I would like to see the Sultan, please," Emma demands after calling for him into her suite. Elsa is sitting on a divan holding Liam in her arms, taking care of him for while his parents have some alone time.

Nemo offers her a warm smile, his hands linked behind his back. "I'm sorry, my lady, but he is bathing."

He says it like it's supposed to appease her, or perhaps make her retract her request, but it has quite the opposite effect. Images of Killian's perfectly sculpted body all wet and naked, his muscles glistening with massage oils makes her throb underneath her robe.

Oh god, she needs to be with him, lest she go mad. "I need to speak with him about matters regarding our son," she says firmly, crossing her arms over her chest, her tone not to be trifled with.

He flashes a knowing smirk; he knows very well why she wants to see Killian. He knows she's wearing nothing under her robe. "Of course. Allow me to escort you," he says compliantly, unwilling to deny her request. Then he whispers, "And don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

Emma feigns confusion, her brows wrinkling. "Why must the discussion of some very important matters regarding the prince be a secret?" She walks over to kiss her sweet boy, telling him she'll be back soon, even though he can't understand what she's saying. He gives her a sad look, and she hates being apart from him, but Elsa threatened to drag her out kicking and screaming if she let her son sway her from leaving. And Elsa is much stronger than she looks, so Emma doesn't wish to find out whether or not she would follow through with her threat.

"Enjoy your time with the Sultan," Elsa blurts out with a smirk.

Nemo smiles and shakes his head. "Uh-huh, just as I suspected," he teases as Emma heads for the door.

Her cheeks flush, a slight smile curving her lips as she calls out to Elsa, "Oh, I intend to," before waltzing out the door with Nemo in tow.

When they reach the doors of Killian's bath area, she thanks Nemo for escorting her and for keeping her secret.

He smiles and blushes, bowing reverently before leaving her outside the double doors.

Her heart is pounding mercilessly as she places her hands on the door handles. She's been to his bed-chamber many times, but she's never been to his bath. In any other circumstances, no one would think to disturb the Sultan while he's bathing, but she is not just anyone to him. She's his wife, the mother of his heir, his true love. A tiny part of her worried he might've reconsidered Neverland customs after his Bas-Kadin gave birth to their son, but she quickly vanquished those thoughts. She remembered the vows he'd made to her in the privacy of his chamber and his bed, how he told her she is the only woman for him and she always would be. The knowledge of this makes her heart flutter and gives her the courage to open the doors and step through the threshold. Inside, the steam sears her lungs, perspiration dapples her skin, and the sight before her steals her breath.

The Sultan is naked and wet and bronzed and oh so glorious.

Multiple maidens are bathing and massaging him, but there is not a shred of worry or jealousy in her heart. Not only because she trusts him and his devotion to her, but because two things change when she steps inside his bath area, her pattens clip-clopping against the marble. One, his eyes transform from a dull shade, showing no interest in the surrounding women, to that familiar, vivid blue, glinting with unadulterated love and admiration upon seeing her. Two, when she loosens the robe and lets it fall to the floor, revealing her fully naked figure, his penis goes from being completely flaccid to fully erect in a matter of seconds. Her blood runs hot, her core throbbing; she has to clench her thighs and steady her breathing to refrain from pouncing on him in front of the other maidens to witness. If she ever had doubts about his attraction to her, she now knows how completely foolish she was for having such thoughts.

The maidens gasp at the sight of Killian's hard, throbbing manhood, and two of them try to touch him there, but he immediately catches their wrists in his hands to stop them.

Emma has never seen them before, so they must be new. Must be Kira's doing, which Emma doesn't blame her for. Being brought to Neverland at thirteen, Kira has been accustomed to the traditions here for a significant part of her life. It's her duty as the mother of a Sultan to make sure her son is happy and content.

As he locks his gaze with Emma, he has that look in his eyes, the one that says his cock belongs to one woman and one woman only. He shoos everyone else away. "Leave us." he growls, his voice cracked as his eyes drink in Emma like a man starved, like he's tormented by the feast set before him. He licks his lips in anticipation, sending a rush of heat to her core, her skin flushed and tingling under his gaze.

The maidens scurry out of the room, leaving the Sultan with his Bas-Kadin, the heat pulsating between them, even from across the room.

Emma saunters to him, her eyes full of desire and determination, still locked with his. He's sitting at a bench and attempts to get up when she approaches, but she places her hand on his shoulder, telling him to sit and relax. When he complies, his muscles loosening under her touch, she goes behind him and gathers some oil in her palms.

"Where is our prince, my love?" he asks tenderly as she places her slick hands on his muscular shoulders, slowly massaging him.

"He's safe with Elsa," she assures before pressing lustful kisses up his neck.

He groans, his head lolling back against her shoulder as he sinks into her. His breath quickens when her swollen nipples pebble into his shoulder blades, coaxing a deep, guttural groan from his throat. Soon he's nothing but a pile of mush, purring as she touches him with her delicate fingers, rubbing out the tension in his shoulders and back. Feeling the thick, solid muscle beneath her palms, her fingers itch to grab onto another thick, solid muscle of his.

"Emma…" His voice is utterly wrecked as he reaches behind himself and strokes her thigh.

She moans in response; God, he's not even touching her where she needs him and she's already writhing and grinding her gleaming folds into his back, attempting to ease some of the pulsating tension between them, but to no avail.

Reaching in front of him, she glides her hands down his body, oiling his chest, running her hands over his nipples as they stiffen at her touch. She moves to his abs, enjoying how they ripple under her palms and the way his stomach tightens as she rubs him there. He's groaning incessantly, his eyes closed as he relishes her touch. She can feel him restrain from pouncing on her. She feels that same tension coiling in her stomach, and she wants to sit on his lap and ride him into oblivion, but she doesn't want this to end too soon. She wants to draw out these few precious moments with him as long as possible. But her body is waging a war against her logic, and the Sultan is growling as he jerks his hips, desperately yearning to be touched as her name pours from his lips, "Emma…"

She must obey. She wraps her hand around his cock and moans when it twitches in her hand. Her sanity and patience snap at the feeling of his velvety skin at her fingertips as his length slides through her fist like butter, arousal dripping down her thigh. She knows he's feeling the same exquisite torture she's experiencing when a rough growl tears through him from deep in his belly, when he turns around on the bench so he can see her, so he can touch her.

They lock eyes, lustful green meets a breathtaking blue as she strokes him, her clit throbbing at the thought of feeling him inside her again after being deprived for so long.

He takes a breast in his hand, squeezing softly and kissing her supple curves, his other hand tracing down her stomach. His fingers slide into her slit, eliciting a growl. "Fuck, you're wet."

She moans, and her hand speeds up, wanting desperately to finish him off like this. Before she can, though, one of his hands is being curled in her hair, then she's being pulled onto his lap and tugged into a hungry kiss. Releasing him so she can cup his cheeks in her hands, she can feel his thick length pulsating against her slick folds as she grinds into him. They both moan at the contact, and the kiss robs her of any willpower she's somehow managed to sustain until this point. They simply devour each other, his tongue fiercely stroking hers, teeth nipping her bottom lip as she drags her folds along his cock, wanting so much more. She wants him inside her, filling her up.

He tugs her closer, until her breasts are flush against his slick chest, his hands roaming her back, and she's unable to keep herself from arching into the kiss.

She whimpers into his mouth, growing wetter as his solid length easily glides through her folds; she needs him to drive into her, needs him to fuck her thoroughly. She needs him before she goes stark raving mad. "Killian..." Her hands clutch at his shoulders as she bucks her hips in offering. "F-fuck me... please." She doesn't care how desperate she sounds, only cares about having his cock ramming into her.

He flashes her a wicked grin and there's something primal in the look he gives her, making her burn even hotter. "Oh, I intend to."

The anticipation is maddening; she feels a thirst for her Sultan that hasn't been quenched in far too long. But he's about to change that. He grabs her hips and lifts her slightly, allowing her to guide him to her aching heat. He draws her downward, groaning as she slides onto him, his eyes never leaving hers. He rolls her hips in his powerful hands, groaning as he claims her walls.

"Yes, oh yes," she moans, her entire body thrumming with relief.

Finally.

Even though they had waited her full resting period before making love, Emma was afraid this would hurt, but oh God , he feels incredible inside her.

"Just as I suspected… you still feel exquisite around my cock." His voice is husky and hot against her lips, the blue of his irises dark with desire, almost completely swallowed by his pupils.

She rides him slowly, her arms wrapped around his neck as he finds her lips, kissing her deeply. As many times as they've done this before, it's as intense as ever. Maybe because it's been so long since they've done this— far too long —or maybe because they now have a child together, both venturing into parenthood, making the bond between them stronger, more special, more exciting. Whatever the reason, being with him feels utterly incredible.

"Say my name, Emma," he growls when she picks up the pace, riding him good and hard, worshipping her Sultan. "Let the entire palace know I'm still yours."

She cries out, her body writhing above him. She loves knowing he's still hers even after giving birth to his son. She loves that she will be the only one to satisfy the Sultan. It's difficult to hold on, difficult to not let him bring her there, and when she feels his calloused fingers tighten around her hips to quicken their thrusts, she can't hold back any longer. Stars burst in her eyes as her orgasm hits her powerfully, and with a sharp cry, she throws her head back as the Sultan fucks his wife through her climax. "Killian!"

Without warning, he lifts her from his lap and spins them around, throwing her on the bench and pounding into her like a man possessed, their groans bouncing off the walls. He throws one of her legs over his shoulder, rutting into her erratically, completely ravaging her as he chases his own orgasm, his eyes completely black. It's been far too long since they've been together like this, and it's like all the desire he'd subdued had shot through him like a lightning bolt. And she loves it. She loves when he takes what he wants from her; she loves when he's panting, when he fucks her at a maddening pace, when he explodes so hard, his legs are shaking as her name tears from his throat in a broken whisper.

He sinks into her on the bench, holding up his weight so he doesn't crush her as he kisses her sweetly. His eyes soften, worry flashing across his face. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Emma manages a lazy smile and shakes her head. "Not at all," she assures, placing her hands on his cheeks. "You felt so good," she whispers.

He groans. "You're incredible." He kisses her lips before sinking his face into her neck, his chest rising and falling against her as he catches his breath.

When they're able to move again, he rises and helps her to her feet. Their activities should have cooled off some of his ardor, but it didn't. He feels selfish for the way he fucked her. It was so quick and raw and animalistic, he's nowhere close to being satiated. And neither is she.

Still holding her hand, he leads her to his bed where he properly worships his goddess, this time slowly and passionately, kissing and caressing every inch of soft, decadent skin, her swollen, blue-veined breasts, her beautiful stomach, his lips tracing her stretch marks from pregnancy, his tongue lapping up the sweet ambrosia from her lovely cunt. Motherhood has only increased her beauty, and he plans on showing her exactly how attracted and completely enamored he still is with her. He wants everyone in the palace to know. And judging by how loudly she moans—probably, loud enough for the entire palace to hear—and the way she explodes, her body shuddering every time she orgasms, he accomplishes what he'd set out to do when he brought her to his bed.

When she's in his arms again, both of them breathless and sheathed in sweat, he kisses her temple and pulls her close, feeling her heart beating erratically against his.

Eventually, he rises, throwing on a robe and procuring some sherbets and small cakes. Elsa brings Liam to them when he's fussing for his parents, and he and Emma spend the afternoon lounging in his bed, cuddling with their prince. Killian's heart blooms as his baby boy sleeps contently on him, breathing softly against his chest as Emma lays her head on Killian's shoulder, her hand resting on the prince's little back. Killian strokes her disheveled hair and smiles contentedly as his angels nap. He loves moments like this when it's just the three of them snuggled in their blissful little bubble. He never wants these moments to end, he wants to capture them and hold them in his heart forever.

He wants to secure their future together at all costs. He needs to make sure the lives of his son and wife are not constantly being threatened. His mother had sent him new maidens this morning, and he needs to stop it from happening again. He was far from tempted by them, but he doesn't wish for these women to live in the harem hoping the Sultan will one day call one of them to his bed, or grow vengeful when he never does and try to hurt Emma or Liam. He will never call a woman to his bed other than his Swan. Which is why he will make some changes around the palace.

Some big changes.