Page 17 of Shielded

Siren holds our baby girl in her arms. She was born two weeks ago with a head of fire red hair and the sweetest smile. Clearly, she looks just like her mother. The other two do as well, thankfully. I can’t imagine a bunch of kids running around with a mug like mine.

“Should we call Layla and Mark down for dinner?” The baby suckles against her breast, and I brush Siren’s hair back away from her face. I love seeing her in this space, holding our child.

“In a minute. I want to watch you two. Besides, I just gave them both a snack. I didn’t think you’d want dinner so early.”

She grins. “You did what? I told them no snacks before dinner!”

“They’re three and four. They’re job is to convince their father of things their mother said no to.”

“It sounds like they’re expert negotiators, then.” She leans in and kisses my lips gently.

I’m not sure when life got this amazing. When we married by the lake, I thought things were as perfect as they could ever be. She wore a long, lace gown and I wore my military attire. It was a small ceremony, but those closest to us came to celebrate. That day, I’d have sworn that nothing could be better. A year later, we had Mark.

Again, I thought I could never be happier. My son, the woman of my dreams, and our little cabin up in the mountains. Then, Layla came, and life changed again.

With each milestone, I convince myself that life can’t possibly get any sweeter, and then it does. Right now, for instance, it’s late afternoon, and the sun is sinking behind the mountain range. The scent of fresh soil, lavender, and baby oil is in the air. It’s brisk as winter is on its way, but the kids are out on the swing set playing without jackets. Layla is hollering something at her older brother, but he’s gone to ignoring her in favor of the trucks he’s racing down the slide.

We had a full day of gardening and visitors because everyone wants to see the baby. It was a nearly endless train of Siren’s mom and Enrique, then her dad and his new wife, her sister Jo and Ox, and finally our friend Dot.

I don’t think either of us had planned on another child. We were content with the two, but this little one surprised us, and again… I find myself happier than I ever thought I could be.

“Do you guys have any big jobs this week?” Siren rubs the baby’s head while she eats.

“I’m working security at the rodeo. That’s all I know. What about you? You’re staying home, right? None of this going into work stuff you were considering.”

She wrinkles up her nose. “My friends love seeing the kids. I really want to go.” She’s been working at the senior center for the past four years. Originally, she used her finance degree to do the books for them, but shortly after, a care giver position opened up and she took it. Since then, she’s been ecstatic to go to work. “Besides, Marjorie is dying to meet this little one. She’s been talking about this cap and booties she knit for her every day for nine months.”

“A few hours,” I groan. “You can go for a few hours, but I want you home resting by the afternoon.”

“Or what?” She grins, her eyes on mine.

My cock thumps against my zipper. This is probably why we ended up with another kid. We can’t stop ourselves. “Or… I take you over my knee. Is that what you want?”

She grins wide and lifts her shoulders. “Kind of. I think I might need you to teach me my lesson.”

“You never learn though, do you?”

Her head tilts to the side. “Maybe because you’re not spanking me hard enough. I need a real, firm punishment.”

I’m insulted. “Not spanking you hard enough? The bruises on your ass say different.”

“Not true. You haven’t bruised my ass in weeks. I think it’s pure as snow back there.”

It’s true, we’ve laid off the spanking for a few months since the doctor had put her on bedrest. The pregnancy went fine, but her blood pressure had shot up in the third trimester and he wanted her to stay calm. Spankings wouldn’t have helped that cause. I could’ve taken her over my knee the day after she gave birth, Lord knows I wanted to, but I figured the rest time was more important. Now, here we are, months without a spanking.

My cock is hard just thinking about it.

She detaches our sleeping baby off her hard nipple and leans forward, resting her in the bassinet. I know how desperate she must be for this because I’ve seen that woman burp sleeping babies dozens of times. It’s a step she refuses to skip.

Now, though, she pokes her head around the corner to make sure Layla and Mark are playing, then she bends forward on the couch and lifts her ass into the air.

Her tits hang low and full, dripping milk onto the fabric.

I know my priority should be the ass that’s in the air, but I can’t resist.

Leaning forward, I latch onto her dripping tits and suckle out the milk that falls, tasting her sweetness. I’m not sure when this became a thing. I was never much into breastmilk before, but I want every ounce of whatever this woman produces. I want her come. I want her milk. I want everything.

She moans as I suckle and flick my tongue against her tit.

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