Cibus pro Anima written for the TwiKinkFest!

Prompt: Pregnant Bella and Edward finds out he has a lactation fetish.

Rating: M for the kink…

Any relevant content warnings: This may contain a touch of lactation fetish and sex. There's also talk of pregnancy, boobs, miscarriage, cravings, masturbation, and humping dogs. If any of that is a trigger for you, please don't read.

Disclaimer: SMeyer does not own this crazy, but she does own B&E and the gang. This wouldn't have happened without my other hoors: TuesdayMidnight, SadTomato, and Fr333Bird. I appreciate them for helping with all the Kinkery. And, thank you to the pretty girls who preread and beta'd for me- DonnerSun, MsKathy, and Sunshinegal3. You girls make me not suck so bad. Thank you.

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

---

Cibus pro Anima: Latin meaning "Food for the Soul"

Leaning forward, my hungry eyes followed her hand. She stroked and tugged at her breast, moving slowly, pulling on her nipple through her tank top.

Her moan drew me into her further until I was kneeling between her legs, one hand on either side of her shoulders.

She sighed again as she shifted her tank top down. Her nipple tightened against the cooled air hitting her breast. I was amazed at the way she looked. Completely relaxed, her hand rubbing and moving around her swollen breast. I took in the shape of her nipples, pointed and firm, a darkened pink. She looked delicious.

Her legs spread farther, the blanket dropping off and her other hand began to move again slowly downward. I watched the muscles in her arm tense and release as she stroked herself. Sitting back with tented pajama pants and all, I watched her pleasuring herself. I loved to watch her. And she loved that I loved to watch her.

Fascinated, I watched her hand manipulate her breast softly. Not able to stay away any longer, I leaned forward and dragged my tongue along her hardened nipple.

"Mmmm." I looked up and saw her looking down, gaze locked onto mine, her lip trapped between her teeth. I did it again just to hear her little mewl.

I licked from the underside of her breast and lapped upward over and over, passing my tongue over her tight, pointed nipple. Sucking it into my mouth and pulling hard, I began a rhythm of sucking and swallowing. Taking every bit she gave me.

Her hips bucked and her body pushed against mine. She pulled me down into her by yanking on my hair.

I felt her other hand moving under my cock. Her wrist rotated languidly pushing against me on every pass as she continued to pleasure herself to the rhythm my mouth set.

"Fuck," I groaned against her tit as she turned her hand and palmed my dick through my pants.

With every push of her hand against me, I sucked harder on her breast. Her hand slipped into my nearly-off pants and wrapped around me, pulling and stroking me. She shoved at my pants, pushing them completely down as she gripped me tightly, stroking up and down. The friction was incredible, but it was nothing compared to the feel of her breast in my mouth. Her taste was delectable. She was sweet, sweeter every time. She tasted fantastic and I couldn't get enough.

I didn't want to waste a minute of my time with her, so I sat up quickly to adjust us as she tugged my hair hard, pulling my mouth from her breast.

Her voice was shaky. "Edward?"

Sadly for my dick, I thought she was done. It must've been too much for her, she was exhausted. But instead of getting off of the bed, she pushed me until my back was against the headboard. She pulled her shorts off quickly then straddled my lap.

"I need you," she begged as she slowly dropped herself onto my cock, pulling it up so she could slip me inside of her.

She gasped as I became completely enveloped by her and my head shot up from staring at her gorgeous, bouncing tits.

"So good, baby." Her whimpers were quiet, but reassuring as she moved above me.

Grabbing my hair at the nape of my neck, she dragged my face to hers and as our lips met and she sucked my tongue into her mouth, tasting herself, she sat up. I felt her then push herself down upon me harder.

"Fuck... me... so good." I mumbled as she moved.

Leaning forward, her nipples brushed against my body. I pulled her back by her shoulders and feasted my eyes on her ample chest. I tugged the top down completely not wanting to waste the time trying to get the tight shirt off of her.

"Please... please, Edward." Begging. God, like she had to beg.

Tilting toward her, I sucked one elongated nipple into my mouth, relishing in the sound coming from her mouth and the buck of her hips.

Sucking hard, I felt her on my tongue. "You taste so good." I moaned as her sweetness, more than just her skin, ran into my mouth. Just the little taste had my body humming.

"Fuck me, Edward!" She cried out softly, pulling herself up and down on my cock as I sucked harder, rolling my tongue around her tip. More and more seeped onto my tongue and I just kept sucking.

She writhed on top of me as I sat completely entranced by her body; what it was doing, how it felt and tasted. She was utterly perfect and she was mine.

When the taste began to lessen, my body instinctively sent me to the other breast while I still played with the other. I began hard pulls against her tit in my mouth. Sucking as hard as I could. I could hear the grunting noises coming from my throat, but I couldn't seem to give a fuck.

Feeling her pick up the pace, my other hand directed her hips up and down as she rode me hard and I continued my onslaught, sucking and licking.

"Oh. Oh, please." Her voice became louder with each syllable. "Please. Fuck. Yes. Fuck. Yes!" She called out and thrusted harder until her body tightened and her legs squeezed together against my hips.

Feeling her body release encouraged my own and as my body spent itself inside her, I bit lightly on the nipple in my mouth relishing in the burst of honey on my tongue.

Then I heard the little whimpers.

"Shit."

My sentiments exactly.

I watched as my sexy wife climbed off of me and grabbed a sweater to hurry into our son's room.

***

Two lines was where it all began.

Two little pink lines and my entire world was completely turned around into something I will remember until the day I die.

My wife was going to give me a child.

She looked like she was glowing. I know people say that, but it was actually true. Whenever she talked about it, even when she was ridiculously sick to her stomach, she smiled brightly.

Bella and I were over the moon. I was picturing blue baby blankets and little jerseys. I had it all planned. My son would go to my alma mater and play the guitar like his old man and grandpa. He would not be an Edward, the third. No, I wanted my son to have his own name.

And like his mother, he would be perfect.

Every father feels that way, right? When you realize your wife is having a baby, you're thrilled and enamored and excited and kind of nauseous. All of it.

Eight weeks later, we were in the depths of hell.

I held my wife as she miscarried our child. There was nothing to be done. It was no one's fault; we were assured repeatedly even though the guilt lay upon me like an iron blanket. We went to the emergency room and the doctors were kind, but honest. "Go home and make her comfortable."

Comfortable?

My wife was in pain, inside and out. And there was nothing-I mean nothing-I could do for her. I held her and cried as she cried, saying everything I could think of to calm her, ease her, but no, I couldn't make her comfortable.

It was the worst experience of my life. And I had caused it. We had incredible, rough, passionate, mind-blowing sex the night before she miscarried. I had hurt her, I had hurt my baby. I would never forgive myself for that.

When she mentioned trying again a few weeks after her doctor's check up, I refused. She said she wanted to give me the son I deserved, but I just couldn't do it. No one could guarantee us that it wouldn't happen a second time. I didn't want her to go through that again. The doctor said that a majority of women have at least one miscarriage.

At least one? How is that possible?

No, I would not do that to the woman of my dreams. I could never force my fantasy of a family on her even if she thought she could handle it. I didn't think Icould handle it.

We could be happy without kids, I thought. But then Bella asked me if I would help her have another child. She sat with my hand her hers and she explained how she really wanted to try again. She told me just how badly she wanted a baby, that she understood the risks, but that she didn't care. She wanted to try again and if it didn't work, then we would start talking about adoption.

I thought about it for days.

Seeing her in so much pain was agony for me. Seeing what the loss of our baby did to my bright, charismatic wife was ruthless. But then Bella also reminded me about the jerseys and the t-ball games. When I looked at my gorgeous wife, I saw happy, little brown eyes and unruly hair. I could picture it all in my head when she spoke about having our baby.

So, I relented and we tried again. I wanted to give it all to her.

Surprisingly, we were able to get pregnant again just two months later.

Bella was optimistically cautious. I was terrified.

We decided to wait on telling our parents because last time. Before, we had to make a lot of calls afterward, lots of explaining what happened and it made a horrible situation even more painful. Neither of us wanted to go through that again.

By the thirteenth week, with assurances from Bella's doctor, we told my parents and her dad. It was another one of those cautious moments sitting at a dinner table not sure of what would happen next. My mom asked lots of questions about Bella's health and of course my father, the consummate doctor, kept answering the questions for Bella and I with the gory enthusiasm only a surgeon could.

Her dad glared at me across the table and I knew he was thinking, "You dumb, selfish bastard." I kind of agreed with Charlie. In a way I felt like I was a huge jerk for letting her convince me to try again, but I would never tell Bella that.

Bella silenced everyone when they asked if we should have waited. She raised her head high with a hand on her barely noticeable bump and smiled as she replied, "No, we're so happy and the doctors are saying everything is perfectly alright. Everything's perfect."

When my mom scooted over to our side of the table and started talking nursery themes, I had to step outside feigning a call from the precinct. I wanted to think about baby stuff, but I didn't. I was so terrified it would happen again and this time, we were even more attached. I felt like a rubber band about to snap. The tightness in my chest wouldn't go away. Any moment, she would call. It would happen again and I would, again, be watching my world destroyed.

For weeks on end, I was jumpier than I'd ever been as a police officer, and I'd been through interrogation training. Any time my cell phone rang, no matter where I was, on a case or with witnesses, no matter what I was doing, I would answer that phone by the second ring with panic in my voice. The relief was always palpable as I listened to my wife ask me to bring home barbecue during a snowstorm or spicy nachos from the Mariners' ballpark. I was so relieved; I would agree to find her just about any food she wanted.

Thankfully, Bella's nausea wasn't bad; it seemed to come and go throughout the day. I tried to do what I could for her, but sometimes she'd just tell me to leave her the hell alone. I wouldn't, but I would "shut up and look pretty" as she would ask.

After the sixteenth week, it was easier to see Bella and her little belly. I wasn't quite as skittish and found myself staring at her blossoming body. I tried not to stare, but it was hard.

Literally.

Always the passionate "ass-man," I would stare unabashedly at her rear. Always have, always will. It was divine. And her legs were simply perfect. She was a runner in high school and college, and did a lot of activity even though she's the clumsiest person I have ever met. She has always looked skinny, but not scrawny, with just the right amount of back-end to drive me crazy.

I never really paid attention to her tits because she had an ass you could bounce a quarter off of. Now though, I found myself staring. A lot.

Anytime she'd lean forward to tie her shoes, pet the dogs, or pick up something... my eyes just fell to her chest. I tried not to stare, I'd never want to make her uncomfortable, but it was definitely difficult to keep from gaping at her like a dirty construction worker from a bad television show.

I think Bella also liked the way her body was changing. She was constantly touching her stomach, almost like she was afraid it would disappear. I knew exactly how she felt. She would often want me to be involved in baby conversations, talking with my family about nursery preparations or names. Even though I usually shied away from baby-talk, she would grab my hand on occasion, pushing it into her stomach and ask me if I could feel the movement, but I never could. To me it just felt like a stomach. She would always pout and ask "Are you sure?"

As her "all day sickness" eased in the second trimester, other things popped up in her pregnancy symptoms. She was starving all the time, but didn't seem to gain any weight other than the soccer ball she was smuggling in her shirt and her boobs were getting huge. I mean huge. They were always pretty little handfuls. But now... they were pretty and huge. So round and pert, my mouth would water when she leaned toward me. They moved when she stopped and she had cleavage.

Plentiful cleavage.

She didn't even have to wear a bra, but she always did. I hadn't seen them "in the flesh" since she'd gotten pregnant. I heard her say early on that her breasts were so tender she had to wear a bra all the time to keep from sobbing in pain. She was If I weren't terrified of hurting her or causing any kind of discomfort, I would've tried to touch her, massage her to ease the pain away and give myself some enjoyment, too. I wouldn't hurt her though, even if I desperately wanted to grope the hell out of her. I elbowed her accidently early on and she punched me in the gut. Point taken. No touching. No matter how badly I wanted to touch them.

Most men might be disgruntled about no fooling around, but I truly did not care in the slightest. My girl was having my baby. She was helping to create a little her and me. Inside of my incredible wife grew a little person. I wouldn't want to do anything to jeopardize that. If that meant keeping my hands and dick to myself, so be it.

By week twenty-five, I was uncomfortable to say the least. A lot of showers. A lot.

My wife was stunning. Glowing and all of that cliché crap they say in the movies. Totally true. She was curvy and beautiful and I seriously think she smelled different, sweeter almost.

We would spend several nights, when I was off work, curled up together with the dogs watching movies. I'd longingly stare down her shirt as she leaned back against my chest. Not proud, but I'll admit it.

Now that she was getting bigger, we began to take walks together every night with the dogs because they needed the exercise and Bella was missing her morning jogs. Jake and Leah seemed to like wandering around the neighborhood and if that kept Leah from humping Jake, even better.

We adopted them both thinking that we'd have a perfect set of Wolfhounds; big, fluffy, and fucking scary to intruders. I was working three 12-hour shifts a week with four days off. It afforded us a lot of time together and I knew it would pay off once our baby was born. Leah was my K-9 from when I was in Criminal Investigations and Jake was my retired partner's dog. He couldn't keep his 150 lb partner when he and his wife started traveling after they retired, so we adopted him when we adopted Leah. Having retired police dogs as pets was a comfort for me when I was working nights.

Bella was already in love with Leah and Jake just took to her like I'd never seen a service dog do. It was like he was Bella's shadow. I figured we would make a nice little pack, but we both knew who was in charge. Leah owned Jake's ass. He didn't even piss without asking her permission. Hell, I felt his pain.

I had some detective buddies who would razz me about becoming an old man now that my wife was pregnant, but I didn't care. It was nice to just be with my wife. Our calm, happy world was a good one.

I had been doing well with months of abstinence. My hand was my new best friend and I was okay with that since it kept my wife and child safe. Who knew masturbation saved lives?

I would do whatever it took to keep them safe.

One night, my beautiful wife snapped. We had gone out to dinner to her favorite Indian spot then curled up together reading on opposite ends of the couch when she simply leapt on me in a feat of grace I don't think I had ever seen from her in our five years of marriage. I'm not sure what she was reading, but whatever was on her e-reader had gotten her going and she would not stop.

We'd made out; kissing heavily, her hands roaming from my hair to my neck and trying to get under my shirt, but I wouldn't put my hands on her like that. I just couldn't. I stroked her hair softly and rubbed her back as she writhed on top of me, testing my will.

"Please, touch me," she begged into my ear, her hot breath making my skin burst into goose bumps. I tried moving my hands around, but I kept thinking "Avoid the belly! Do not touch breasts!"

Stroking my hands from her hips to her ribs back and forth was apparently not enough.

"Please, Edward," she moaned, pressing her breasts into my chest and straddling me higher, grinding into me.

She pushed her hips into me again and again until I had to physically push her back by her shoulders. "No, baby."

She sat up and looked me straight in the eyes. She was still. It was kind of frightening. She's never still; even when she slept she wiggled. Minutes ticked by and I was at a loss as to what to do. Her eyes searched mine, her lip quivered, but she said nothing. I finally said, "I don't want to hurt you," and I placed my hand on her stomach. "Or him."

"Likely fucking excuse!" She exploded at me as she scrambled off my lap, catching her leg on the coffee table. I grabbed for her arm as she teetered, now even more wobbly and clumsy that she was, to steady her out-of-whack body, but she slapped my hands away and turned on me.

"I'm fucking disgusting. I am so gross and fat." She gestured to her stomach. "I don't blame you. I'm a whale!"

My heart dropped at her words. "No," I assured her. "You are not. Bella, are you kidding? My god, you're stunning!" I wasn't lying in the least.

"Fuck you, Cullen." Oh, she last named me. "Don't patronize me. You don't touch me. You haven't touched me in months! I used to not be able to change or take a shower without you grinding on my ass and now look... nothing!"

She turned and walk away, so I followed her into the bedroom. "Go away!"

"I won't go away." She stood with her back to me as I continued, "Please. You have to know how much I want you."

"Ridiculous! You haven't touched me in months. You won't even cop a feel! You told me when we were dating that my ass was your favorite thing on the planet... now my ass is ruined! And you won't touch me at all!"

"Bella, you're pregnant," I said. She looked at me with a withering "Thank you, Captain Obvious"glare. Stumbling over my words, I continued, "I can't hurt you. I can't do anything that might hurt you or the baby. It's not that I don't want to, it's- it's that I can't."

"Can't?" She turned toward me. Her eyes swam with tears, little flecks of wetness on her cheeks and chin. Shit! I'm an asshole. I made my pregnant wife cry.

Dropping to my knees, I placed my arms around her waist and kissed her stomach over her tank top.

"I am so afraid of hurting you. I'm so, so, so afraid I'll hurt you or make you uncomfortable or do something that will cause the baby distress. I just can't do that again."

"Edward? You are a doctor's son. That is the most bull shit answer for not fucking your wife, ever. You had nothing to do with what happened before. And I know your dad gave you the birds and bees talk. I was there for it at our rehearsal dinner!"

I smiled at the memory of my dad, exceptionally inebriated, trying to explain what a honeymoon was.

Bella leaned forward and thumped my forehead. "Don't be dumb! Getting to second base won't hurt me!"

"No! I know I'm being irrational, but I'm irrationally afraid I'll hurt you or the baby," I said from my stance below her. I stared up at her, craning my neck so I could see her beautiful face.

"So let me get this straight, Detective Cullen," her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You, a man with a degree in criminal law and psychology, are afraid of damaging me or our unborn child if you even just touch my boobs?" She scoffed. Loud.

"Well, no," I murmured with my face in her stomach. Looking back up, I could see the irritation drawn on her features. "I just don't want to make you uncomfortable. You said they were extremely painful."

"That was four months ago! And you won't have sex with me because you're afraid of poking the baby in the eye?"

"I just can't." Yes, I whined. "I cannot go back to what happened, Bella. I cannot possibly make you uncomfortable or hurt you in any way. It killed me to see you in so much pain, hurting that way with nothing I could do for you. I just can't." I felt tears sting my eyes as I spoke. Pushing off the floor, I reached for her and grasped her face in my hands.

"I am so sorry." I begged her forgiveness and surprisingly she nodded and kissed me gently on the mouth.

"I understand, baby." She ran her fingers through my hair as she shushed me and told me everything would be okay.

We hugged for a long time and that was when I felt it. My baby kicked. Against my hand placed low on my beautiful wife's swollen belly, I felt my little baby push against my hand.

It was all the assurance I needed.

Weeks went by and we worked hard getting the house ready for an infant. We even worked with the dogs on how to behave when there's a screaming banshee sitting next to them, very different than subduing drug dealers. Having my brother, Emmett, bring over his twin toddlers, Chelsea and Carmen, was a nice change, but I don't think either of the dogs will be volunteering for that again. We were having fun planning the nursery, painting and building furniture, and, of course, picking names. We hadn't peeked at whether we were having a boy or a girl, but Bella said she just knew it was a boy.

She still wanted to name him Edward, but threw in Jasper after her brother to soften the blow.

"Not only no, because I don't want my kid to have my grandpa name like I did. But your brother, I love him, but he's an egotistical shit and does not need the boon of our son being named after him."

She laughed a lot after that and we started a list of other names.

Not only did we do lots of planning, but my sexy wife started seducing me.

Yes, my wife. Was seducing me. It can happen. Believe me.

She'd walk around the house in tiny little shorts and low cut tops. It was nearly summer, so her dresses got shorter and shorter. My wife has amazing legs and her robust ass has driven me insane since we met in college and she knew this. So as she paraded by in barely nothing, I knew she knew what she was doing.

But I withheld.

Then my she took matters into her own hands.

After staying up late working to get things done to have time off once the baby came, I tried to be quiet as I opened the bedroom door, but I could hear her moaning. The rustling of the sheets drew me closer; afraid she was having a hormone-driven nightmare. The light from her bedside table was dimmed, but it showed all too well her arm moving back and forth slowly. Her mouth was parted and her eyes closed.

She was taking care of herself and my dick was jealous.

I stood stupidly at the end of the bed watching her arm move under the sheet, her head rolling slowly atop her pillow with little mewls and moans filling my ears.

Then she came.

Fuck. Me.

She came with panting breaths and a little groan as she stretched her toes out under the blanket. After a minute or so, she curled around her belly facing away from me and I just stood there, dick hard in my drawstring pants, until I could will myself to go to sleep. It took nearly twenty minutes of deep breaths before I could even lay down and try to contemplate sleep.

***

"Mmm..."

The humming sound woke me from a deep sleep. As I blinked a few times, I realized I was lying nearly on top of Bella. She was on her back and I was laid out with my leg on top of hers, my hips against her side. And then I noticed my hand. I was groping her.

Not just a sweet, little boob cuddle. No, this was full on groping and man-handling. And she was moaning because of it.

The light was drifting through the windows and I could see her face, soft and relaxed, and her lips would part when my hand shifted over her nipple. The soft mewling noise that came out of those pretty pink lips was astounding and arousing.

Suddenly, she shifted toward me and I pulled my hand back with a near yelp. I didn't want to be caught molesting my wife in her sleep. That would definitely not be okay. I rolled over facing away from her and watched Jake sleeping in a little ball on his bed. I felt Bella's hand curling into a fist on my hip, her fingers moving slowly to clench and unclench her fist.

What the fuck?I groaned internally. I didn't know what had come over me.

I knew she was waking up because her breathing had changed and I wondered if I woke her, if she felt me. Shame filled me as I thought about how I behaved. Her little whimper brought me from my mental self-flagellation. Rolling onto my other side I saw her eyes were closed and looked to be asleep. One of her hands was resting protectively against her belly and the other was clutching her breast.

Sitting up, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and hung my head with my elbows on my knees. Why was I acting like this? Shouldn't I be repulsed by the thought of tugging on her breasts? The feelings of self-loathing crept deeper into my heart as I heard her long sigh behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder expecting to see her big brown eyes, but her head was turned the other way. Her hand though, was softly plucking at her nipple through her top.

She rolled her hips slightly and her other hand drifted lower and lower along her belly. As a little moan escaped her slightly parted lips, I shifted back onto the bed and lay down beside her.

"Edward," she sighed as her head lolled back toward me. She was still sleeping, dreaming about me. The reaction my body had to that thought was intense. I wanted to claim her, mark her, take her in every way I could.

My hand moved toward her breast and I ghosted my fingers along the swell to the peak and swirled around it. Her body, so responsive, turned toward me.

In the morning light, she was even more gorgeous than usual. Her hair was a mess on her pillow and her eyes were fluttering with whatever good thoughts she was having. Her hand continued its ministrations on her other breast as I experimented with little touches along the other. Without thinking, I moved my mouth to the peak and mouthed it over her top.

She gasped and her hand clasped my head. I thought she was going to smack me, but she weaved her fingers into my hair and held me there sighing and moaning. I continued to lick and suck and I had to touch her more. My hand drifted to her shorts and I pushed my fingers into them to find her warm and wet. She was so turned on.

Suddenly she shoved me and I was ready with apologies when she crawled over me. Pushing me so I was lying on my back, she straddled my legs. "Please," was all she said.

Her words stirred something inside me, but my fear was still so compelling.

"It's not wrong," she said, shaking her head. "You couldn't be selfish if you tried. Is it because you don't want me? That you aren't attracted to me?"

I kissed her pouting lips then pulled back, "Of course I want you. You're my wife. And you're fucking gorgeous and sexy. I just don't want to do anything to hurt you."

"Damn it, Edward! Stop making decisions for me. For us. This. is. good." She punctuated each word with a thrust of her hips. I looked away, trying not to become aroused. She leaned up on her knees and tried to get my attention with her hands, but I just couldn't bring myself to look at her knowing how rough I wanted to be with her. How I wanted to take pleasure from her without thinking about my baby.

"Edward, please." Her voice cracked slightly at the end. I felt her shift above me. "Please. Please, Edward."

Something landed next to my head and I looked up and my breath left me in a rush.

She sat above me, completely bare from the waist up. Her hands moved along her swollen breasts, pushing them together then rubbing her hands across her nipples. She alternated her soft caresses with little tugs and scraping her nails across her skin, making red marks along her chest. Something told me to look away, but yet she was moving her hips and moaning as she fondled her chest with lidded eyes. She was enjoying it. And I enjoyed watching her.

"Please, Edward." She was panting and moaning as she moved slowly, rhythmically above me. Watching in stunned silence she pulled again on her nipple and a tiny amount of moisture appeared.

And I snapped.

Sitting up quickly, I leaned forward and captured the dark pink peak in my mouth. I swirled my tongue, gathering the sweetness and then began to suckle. Alarmed at how amazing she felt, I nearly stopped.
Her moans and shifting hips alerted me to her enjoyment, though, and I continued my attack against
her skin.

Her hips moved faster as I switched breasts and continued feeling and tasting her and I knew she wanted more. Her begging whispers and pants heeded me to lean her back onto the bed and rid her of her clothing. I fell back on top of her bare and eager. Propping myself up on my elbow, my hips against the back of her thighs, my mouth at her breast, I resumed my delights against her skin as my cock sought her out and I pushed into her roughly. I grabbed her knees and spread them as I pushed in and pulled out of her.

"Yes, please." She moaned again and again as I thrusted, my mouth never leaving her tit. Over and over again, I pounded into her and drew from her. Her belly was pushed snugly between us and I braced myself by putting my hands on either side of her to keep all of my weight from falling on to her.

Bella's body was tensing, every muscle coiling inside her. And I took from her. Everything that was mine and giving her everything I was.

Her hands tangled in my hair, held me tightly to her and her words made no sense, but reassured me that I was doing it right. It felt right. It felt so fucking good!

Sucking hard, she held me to her as we collided together in a sweaty tangle of limbs. She was groaning louder now, more vocal than usual, her legs wrapping around my back. She was gripping my hair tightly in her fists, but she wasn't pulling me away, she was keeping me close.

Her breasts were made to feed my child, but it was incredible to feel her leaking onto my tongue. I needed her taste. I needed to feel her fill my mouth with sweetness as I sucked harder and harder.

The taste of her milk on my tongue and the feel of her body all around me was almost too much. The tingling started at the base of my spine and crawled through my body with every pull from her body into my mouth. The electricity stung and tickled along my skin as I pistoned my hips against her body and her feet dug into my back pushing me into her harder and harder.

"Fuck, please! Yes!" Her scream was felt into the base of my skull and it spurred me forward, deeper and it was just more that I ever thought I could feel. She tasted incredible. I couldn't live without feeling and tasting her again, ever. She was made for me and I would do whatever I could to always have her.

I could feel the intensity of my climax growing and growing until it overtook my entire body.

Pushing forward until I was fully inside my beautiful wife, I stilled my body with a shudder and grunted as I swallowed another mouthful of her perfection.

Her hand that was wound into my hair unclenched and she began to softly pet my hair.

"Beautiful," she whispered against the top of my head.

I felt myself softening inside her, but I didn't want to move. Laying on my knees and elbows, I was sure not to crush her belly, but I kept my mouth surrounding her silky nipple, softly sucking. Her knees were parted, but her feet still dug into my thighs, holding me to her in our awkward embrace.

She wasn't at all freaked out by what had happened. She was sighing contentedly and drifting her fingers along my arm.

Leaning into me again, she brought her lips to the top of my head for a gentle kiss and continued to brush her fingers through my hair in a soothing balm to my frantic heartbeat.

"Are you okay?" Asking me like I was one of her students with glue in his hair, she blinked up at me.

I sat up and asked, "Did that hurt you?"

She shook her head softly with a little grin playing at her lips.

"You aren't in any pain?" I asked as I knelt by her legs on the bed.

"No, baby. It felt amazing." Her eyes sparkled in the dim light as she spoke.

"Is he?"

"He's fine. Asleep." She caressed her belly then drifted her hand up to her chest.

"Are you sure-"

"Don't you dare. That was the sexiest fucking thing we've done since this kid was conceived." She emphasized her words as she tugged my hair.

"It was okay?"

"More than okay. God, it was sobetter than okay." She purred into my ear. "That was one of the best orgasms ever and you once gave me four in one night. That thing, with my boobs... holy shit! That was amazing."

Hearing Bella curse had always been a turn on and when she was blissed out, she cursed like a sailor. I loved it. And I loved her.

"Promise me we can do that again," she asked sweetly.

"Yes." Trailing my finger along the side of her breast and then across to the still hard nipple. "I really want to do that again."

I don't know how long we laid there, entwined together; her softly comforting me, me clutched to her breast. When her stomach grumbled and my baby kicked me, I finally pulled myself away from her warm, soft body. Her smile, so bright and entreating, begged me to be happy. The calm I felt throughout my body was more than I could have hoped for and I smiled back at my beautiful girl.

"Let's get you fed, baby. Our little one needs nourishment."

"Mmmm. Can I have chocolate chip pancakes and bacon?" She asked with a little bounce as she found her clothes. "I need to double my calories for breastfeeding."

My head popped up from pulling on my pajama pants. I'm sure she read my concern, the calm from before quickly evading me.

"Did you know women can breastfeed for years after giving birth?" She smiled softly as she passed me. A naughty, knowing grin spread across her scarlet lips.

---

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

E/N: Well? What did you think? I hope you enjoyed. Go read the rest at twikinkfestDOTtumblrDOTcom. Lots of kinkydirtyfun over there!