The cabin is quiet today, which is strange after the chaos of Christmas with both our families. Eomma and the girls decided to spend the rest of their winter break at the other house, allowing Ian and me our last few days as a couple before the pups arrive.
It was sweet of them to give us privacy. They’ve still been visiting nearly every day, though. They come over to cook, chat, and watch movies with me, since I barely get off the couch. And of course, my mom has a ton of advice for me about birth and postpartum, like I haven’t had babies before. But I didn’t get to have her around when Samantha and Molly were born, so I treasure the time with her. She’s also been cooking up a storm, which I’m very grateful for.
“Come here,” Ian says when I finish my soup, settling onto the couch behind me. “Let me work on your back.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.” I shift forward, and he slots himself into the space behind me, his legs bracketing my hips. The warmth of his body seeps through my loungewear.
His thumbs dig into the knots along my spine, and I groan. The sound is obscene, honestly. If anyone walked in right now, they’d think we were doing something far more scandalous than a back rub.
“Right there,” I breathe as he finds a particularly stubborn spot. “Oh god, right there.”
“You’re so tight. Let me loosen you up.” His voice is low against my ear, and a shiver runs through me. This is exactly the type of dirty talk this pregnant lady needs.
“This is better than sex,” I lie.
He chuckles, the vibration traveling through his chest and into my back. “Poor pretty girl. You’re working so hard, growing our pups.” His hands slide down to my lower back, working the muscles there with firm, knowing strokes. “They’re going to be here soon.”
“I sure hope so.” I tip my head forward, giving him better access to my neck. “I feel like I’ve been pregnant for a hundred years.”
“Any day now.” He kisses the spot where my shoulder meets my neck, and my breath catches. “Could even be today. Dr. MacDougal said you’re ready to go any time.”
His hands slide around my sides, and when they brush the undersides of my breasts, I feel a spark of heat that catches me off guard. I’ve been so uncomfortable lately that I’d almost forgotten my body could feel anything else.
“Is this okay?” Ian murmurs against my skin.
“More than okay.” I lean back into him, and his hands slide higher, cupping my swollen breasts through my sweater. My nipples are so sensitive that even this light touch makes me gasp.
He groans, a low, rumbling sound that I feel in my bones. “I’ve been trying not to bother you.” His thumbs brush across my nipples, and I shudder. “But you make it so hard to be good.”
“Who said you have to be good?”
That’s all the permission he needs. He tugs my sweater up and over my head, leaving me in just my stretched-out sleep bra. The fire crackles in the hearth, casting warm light across the living room, and for once I don’t feel self-conscious about my changed body. Not with the way Ian is looking at me, like he wants to slurp me like a noodle.
“Look at you,” he breathes, running his palms lightly over my belly. “So full. So gorgeous.” He unclasps my bra with nimble fingers and eases it off, freeing my heavy, aching breasts. “These are even more perfect than before.”
I snort. “They’re enormous.”
“I know.” He cups them reverently, weighing them in his palms. “It’s incredible.”
Before I can argue, he dips his head and takes one nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak. The sensation is so intense that I cry out, my back arching. My breasts are so tender that his touch feels electric. Like every nerve ending is lit up and singing.
“Ian.” My fingers tangle in the thick fur of his mane as he switches to the other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. “That feels... oh god.”
He hums against my skin, the vibration making me whimper. His broad tongue is relentless, lapping at my nipples until they’re stiff and aching. I feelsomething building, a tingling pressure that’s all too familiar.
“Wait,” I gasp. “I think that’s let-down.”
Ian pulls back, and I look down to see a bead of white liquid on my nipple. My milk is coming in.
For a moment, we both just stare. Then Ian makes a sound I’ve never heard before, somewhere between a growl and a whine, and his tail goes absolutely wild.
“Can I?” he asks, his voice rough.
I don’t know why the idea doesn’t weird me out. Maybe it’s the oxytocin coursing through me. Maybe it’s just Ian, and the way he makes everything feel natural and right. I nod, and he lowers his head again, his mouth closing around my nipple with gentle suction.
The first pull makes me gasp. It feels like he sucks something out of my soul. The milk starts flowing, and his groan of pleasure vibrates through my entire body.
“Fuck,” he breathes against my skin. “You taste incredible. So sweet and creamy.”
