Elna
I shut the door to our bedroom and tiptoe inside. Brandon doesn’t stir. He’s dead asleep. Or so I think till I near the bed and drop the package—his valentine gift on the nightstand. He puckers his lips for a kiss and I gladly indulge him. His hands grasp my butt, he pulls me up to straddle him and I move slowly against his erection without breaking eye contact.
“Are they asleep now?”
“Yeah. Finally. Alleluia,” I reply with a laugh. “Maybe I shouldn’t have given them the day off.”
Silly me thought it would be great to give the twins nannies Valentine’s Day off so our family could do something special. Bad choice. With two one-year old attention demanding kids, I need all the help I can get. To make it worse, this year’s valentine fell on a Sunday and most of last night was spent trying to quiet the babies.
“Maybe.” Brandon captures my lips. The kiss is lazy but it soon grows urgent. His tongue searches for mine, twirling and teasing mine. He whispers against my lips, “But it’s done now.” A moan slips from me as he buries his hands into my shorts to cup my ass. “Let’s worry about that later, yeah?”
“Yeah.” My hands are already on his shorts. I drag it down his waist and sneer at his briefs. I want him. I need him now. With both of our hectic schedules, sex has gotten less frequent. When you have kids and a tasking job, sometimes, all you want to do is hide from them and sleep. “Baby, I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
Brandon flips me under him and strokes my nose. His eyes flash with love and his tongue darts out to touch my lips. “Happy valentine, baby. I love you.”
“I love you more, Mr Brandon Stark.”
“Really?” he teases. His eyes trail to the box knotted with a red ribbon. “You got something for me?”
Yes. But I need him to do something else before we unwrap gifts. Or, he can unwrap me first. I open my legs, hungry and in desperate need for his tongue to worship me. He slides my shorts down my hips to reveal my wetness, looks up to me and winks.
My core throbs at the gesture. I bite my lips when he inserts a finger into my cunt and thrusts it into my mouth. I have barely tasted myself when his mouth covers mine to swallow all my moans as he starts fingering me.
I rock my hips against his expert fingers, hands sinking into his hair to force his head lower. I need his tongue. I need him to lick me. To tongue me.
“Brandon,” I whisper.
My husband looks at me but his fingers continue their beautiful work. “Yes, wife.” I giggle. Brandon flicks a finger over my clit and I shudder. I shove his shoulders down but he shakes his head. “Tell me what you want, Elna. Use your words. What do you want?”
God. We are over this stage already. But somehow, I’m shy. “Baby.” His fingers cease their movements. I groan in protest but his stern gaze locks the rest of my cries in my throat. “Brandon, please.”
“Please, what?”
A wet finger trails over my slits, kneading my clit with a gentility that promises more if I obey him. “Don’t do this to your baby. Brandon, please.” That earns me a harsh tug on my clit. I arch my back, willing him to continue. “Fine. Eat me. Suck me.”
“Huh? I didn’t get that.” I smack his chest, once, twice. He laughs and grabs my hands. “You don’t have to be shy about these things, El.” He licks his way up to my jaw, my mouth, my nose. “I’ll gladly eat you, baby. I’ll lick you till you come for me.”
My vagina spasms. I grow wetter. “Please do.”
His head lowers between my legs. I fold my knees, push myself towards his lips when he doesn’t start immediately. Gripping his hair, I let out a sound that spurs him to start. His tongue swipes over my pulsing flesh and my body jerks. My juices pour into his mouth. I grab his head, pushing it deeper to demand for more of what he is already giving me.
The shimmering of an orgasm settles over my body. My belly knots and my hands fall back to the bed as his finger reaches up to massage my tiny nub. God. Brandon is doing a great job. His tongue soaks in everything that comes out of my femininity and his fingers tease my swollen clit. My legs quiver. I’m close.
I come hard, threatening to bring down the roof with my scream. Pleasure takes over my body. I’m unusually sensitive as he laps on my juices. I beg him to stop when I really want him to keep going. His hairs brush my belly and I explode under him.
Brandon’s body towers over mine. His dick brushes my wetness and I cup his length. I slip my hand into his briefs, my index finger circles the tiny opening dripping with precum. He hisses out a moan, places a kiss on a corner of my lips. His mouth glimmers with my essence, I swipe a finger over his lips and insert it into his mouth to taste myself.
“Your turn, baby,” I let out in a sultry whisper.
But it never comes.
The door flings open. Brandon is a flurry of clothes and movements as he scrambles to adjust himself and throw the covers over my half-naked body. All done, he gives me a disapproving look and I mutter a silent apology. The girls know better than to enter Daddy and Mummy’s room without knocking.
Wyn steps in first. She’s holding her sniffing brother. She stops by our bed and appraises us with a slow sweep of her eyes over my body. I adjust the straps of my nightie and she taps a finger against her jaw. She’s so nosy and cute and stubborn and talkative and loving. I love her but this is the wrong time.
“Daddy, are you using lipgloss?” I kiss him to rid any evidence of our rendezvous before she beats me to it. Wyn frowns. “Ew, mummy.” Her brother stops wiggling in her arms and I stretch out my hands for him. I narrow my eyes when she hesitates and she drops him in my arms. “Did I disturb you?”
Yes. Brandon junior juts out his lower lip and makes a suckling sound. I touch a finger to his lip and his mouth spreads open to reveal his toothless gum. My heart. I thought the girls were cute when they were born but I don’t know anymore. The boys are so cute.
“No,” Brandon replies. “I missed you.” I dart one dry look at his erection hiding under the covers and he laughs. “Where’s your sister?”
Brianna has not been home since Friday. She insisted on spending Valentine’s day with Vincent. Vincent is not my favourite person in the world but Brianna adores her uncle and Brandon often hangs out with him. It’s a bit weird to have him around our family but I will always support my babies one hundred percent as long as they are happy.
B touches my boobs to signify breastfeeding time. I smother him with kisses. “You already ate,” I tell him. His brows knit together in that cute way only babies can pull off, his eyes shimmer with tears and a non-cute wail escapes him. “Okay. Okay. Coming right up.”
Brandon helps me pull down the straps of my gown and the hungry little man latches to my nipple. I wince and adjust his head. He belches and resumes suckling. My heart flips. I look up to see Daddy and daughter watching Mummy and son bond.
They are off exclusive breastfeeding but the boys still love their breast milk. The doctor said it was fine up till age two and I don’t mind since I enjoy doing it. But my nipples need a break sometimes. I wince again when B’s teeth sink into my areola.
“Do you need help?” Brandon asks.
“It’s fine.”
The door opens and the unmistakable cry of a baby tears through the air. Brandon jumps out of the bed but it’s too late. Once B spots his crying brother, he bursts into tears. I try to shush him by guiding my nipple into his mouth but he’s determined to cry along with BB. Brendan is cute but he cries a lot.
Tiredness and annoyance rolls over me. My chest sags. I glare at Bren, the culprit who hands over BB to his father. She offers me a half-hearted shrug, lips quirking with mischief. “BB has been crying.”
“What did you do?”
“I wanted to give him chocolate.” There is a dark smudge on the side of her lips. These kids do the most. “I saw on TV that chocolate is good for babies so I gave it to him. Are you mad at me, Mummy?”
“No.” Brandon hides a laugh and I fix him a stern look. I swear, they are all babies. Big babies. “Just a little.” Bren sits close to me as her sister and Daddy excuse us with their crying brother. She grins at a suckling B and bops his nose. “Next time, don’t give your brothers anything without Daddy or Mummy’s permission, okay? It might not be good for them.”
“Okay, Mummy.” We fall into a comfortable silence. She spares a glance at the door and points at my leaking breasts. “Can I taste it?” Because she asked nicely. And she’s looking at me with a pout, I allow her a taste. Her face scrunches. “It’s not sweet.”
But she fed on it for about a year plus till they could survive without breast milk. Her and her sister.
“It’s good for babies,” I explain.
Brandon returns later with Wyn. BB is calmer now as he is sucking directly from a feeding bottle. My husband holds up another bottle of milk in case I want a break. Wyn rushes to sit on the bed, resting her back on the headboard in the position we taught them whenever they want to carry any of their brothers. Arms stretched out and back against anything strong or solid for support.
Brandon tucks Brendan in Wyn’s arms and pries his namesake off me. He pushes the tip of the feeding bottle into B’s mouth before he makes a sound and I breathe out a sigh of relief as I adjust my gown.
“Thanks,” I tell him.
Brandon presses a kiss to my temple. “I’ve got you.”
I know he does. With him as my partner, I don’t have to worry about anything. I have him. I have our girls. I have our boys. I have everything I’ll ever need to be happy on earth.
* * *
A/N: My apologies for taking so long to end this book. It was a bit tough for me to write the epilogue and say bye-bye to my babies. But I hope I was able to do a good job at it.
Thank you so much for reading and sticking with us till this point. I hope to write a story about Joshua and Joy but I can't say for sure when that will happen.
You can find me on Instagram: maramarthaa. I will post updates when I'm ready for the spinoff.
Do take care!