Chapter 143: Diogo

"Tighter," she demands. "I'm not made of glass."
I chuckle and tighten my arms around her waist, pulling her back into me. She tosses the spoon she'd been holding on the counter and leans back, tipping her head up and smiling. I kiss her on the tip of her nose and murmur, "The food is going to burn."
She laughs, the bright rich sound hitting me straight in the heart and then heading down to my groin. "When have I ever not burnt the food?"
She has a point. She's been practicing more, deciding that she wants a more conventional upbringing for our son, one where we sit down and eat meals together. Usually I end up taking over and finishing for her when she gets frustrated. I've told her that success in the kitchen isn't instant. She's never had consistent access to the utilities we do here; a fridge, a stove and consistent electricity. We enjoy our privileges, but we don't take them for granted.
She wiggles in my arms, reminding me of our momentary flirtation. "Turn the stove off, love," I say in her ear. She tips forward, thrusting her ass into my cock and turns the stove off. I groan and drop my hands to her hips, clenching them in her lush flesh. I'm instantly hard, desire for my wife rushing through me like liquid fire in my veins. I will never get enough of her. My need grows more fierce with every passing day, just as I knew it would from our very first meeting.
"I need to fuck you," I growl, dropping my head into her neck and nibbling my way from the base up to her ear, just the way she loves it. She moans her sweet music and I know I'm on the right track. I reach up under her shirt, delighted to find nothing between my hand and her breasts. The full, round globes fill my hands.
She squirms and tries to jerk away, tensing in my arms. "Diogo, Blaze hasn't eaten yet. I might... I might..." she doesn't finish the sentence.
"Might what?" I demand, not understanding.
She sighs and shakes her head. "I might leak," she says softly, embarrassment clear in her voice. I grin against her neck. I wish I could see her face. Her soft pale skin will be flushing a gorgeous pink.
"I hope so," I rumble against her, biting into the thin flesh of her neck and marking it. "It makes me so fucking hard thinking about it."
She laughs her relief and melts against me once more. I continue my sensual exploration of her breasts, lifting them and squeezing gently, plucking at her nipples until they become hard points pressed into the palm of my hand. I love the feel of them, especially when they're hard. Liquid drops touch the fingers that pull and tug at them, dripping onto my hand and then down her belly.
I've always been obsessed with my wife, but since the birth of our son I've become ravenously obsessed with her body. The lush fullness calls to the beast in me. I have to remember to go gently. But when she tells me to hold her tighter, fuck her hard, I'm helpless in her thrall.
I turn her around and drag her shirt over her head, baring her gorgeous breasts. Her face is flushed with both embarrassment and excitement. I drop to my knees in front of her, burying my head against her soft, warm belly, the weight of her breasts above me. I tilt my face back and look up at her, then I reach for her breast, straightening to take it in my mouth.
She gasps, her hand flying up to cover the nipple. "Diogo, no!" she says, her voice stunned but no less excited. I take her hand in mine and drag it behind her. I do the same with her other hand and hold them behind her back in a tight, unbreakable hold.
"You don't get to say no to me," I growl at her, but without the heat of anger. I understand her hesitation. She's a new mother, sometimes lost in a sea of hormones and new experiences. Having her husband drink her breast milk is likely taboo in her mind. Perhaps it might have been in mine too before I met her. But now, nothing will stand between us, especially not preconceived notions of how our marriage should be. Nothing will stop me from experiencing every nuance of Taran.
I take her nipple into my mouth, drawing it deep, savouring the touch of her hard nipple against the back of my throat. Her breasts are so much larger that they no longer fill my mouth the way they used to. The excess bubbles out, pressed against her chest from the ravenous pressure of my mouth.
"Oh god!" she howls, and I can practically smell the wetness spreading between her thighs as I devour her ultrasensitive nipple. Milk spills from her and into my throat. The taste is good and I'm pleased that my wife is providing such sustenance for our child. I don't take much as I have no wish to deprive our son when it's his turn.
I move to her other breast and draw it into my mouth, this time attacking her nipple with a little more force, giving Taran the kind of love bite I know she enjoys. She keens wildly and tugs on her hands. I let them go and she buries them in my hair, holding me tight against her breast.
"Oh god, oh fuck, oh my fucking god!" she yells and I grin against her, loving her wild inhibition once she lets go of herself. "It's so good, it's too good, I think I can almost come from this!" she babbles.
"Not without me," I say, releasing her nipple.
I drag her down to the floor with me. She falls easily, her already weak knees giving out. I catch her in my arms and kiss her soundly, sharing the lingering taste of her own breast milk. She throws her arms around my neck and kisses me back with abandon, her knees parting over my thighs and her hips thrusting against my belly.
I shove my hand up her back and bury it in her hair, forcing her in for a deeper kiss, duelling her for supremacy as her tongue plunges into my mouth. I shove it back into hers and take over, sweeping the sweet recesses, touching her tongue, her teeth, everything.
My aching balls remind me to get on with things. As much as I love playing with Taran, driving her need higher and higher until she's ready to explode, there's nothing I enjoy more in the world than the feel of my cock buried in her sweet cunt.
Without warning I flip her over. She's forced to reach out and brace herself on the kitchen floor so she doesn't faceplant. I drag her pants off, tearing them in the process. I unzip my own pants, pull my cock out and kneel behind her, driving into her in one long, smooth movement. I grip her hips and hold her still, savouring the moment. The feel of her pussy squeezing my cock is the best thing in the world. Nothing compares.
She whimpers and wiggles, trying to get me to thrust again. I slap her ass, enjoying the way her hips jerk on my cock. She laughs and does it again, earning another slap. Her laugh turns to a moan and her pussy floods with a fresh wave of lubricant. I'm so fucking pleased with myself for turning my wife on to the point that she throws herself into the moment without hesitation, taking everything I choose to give her and begging for more.
I pull back and slam forward, filling her again, my balls slapping wetly against her. Over and over I thrust as she yells and claws at the floor, slamming her hips back into mine, seeking her own orgasm. Then I feel it, I feel the exact moment it hits her. Her pussy muscles squeeze me so hard she nearly forces me out. No fucking chance is that happening. I slam my way into her, tunnelling through her spasming pussy, taking every ounce of pressure she lays on my dick.
My balls tighten and tingle and then I'm over the edge with her, shouting my orgasm as I hunch over her back and fill her with my seed, my fingerprints dug deep into the flesh of her hips. We collapse together, her on the bottom and me on top of her, caging her with my much bigger body. Hell, she's so much smaller if anyone came into the kitchen just then they might not even see her. I'm careful to hold the majority of my weight off her back.
As we come down, she sighs contentedly, turning her face to grin happily up at me. I'm about to lay another kiss on her, a sweeter one, a thank you for being so fucking amazing, but a sharp cry has me jerking away. The single cry turns into many as our son tells us in no uncertain terms that we woke him from a pleasant nap.