Baby, I Love You
Sleep. Deep, deep sleep. It was close, with her head on the feathery pillow and side resting comfortably on a pillow-top mattress. One arm draped over the swollen midsection, soothingly petting as if to calm the baby inside to sleep, convince him to stop doing cartwheels and summersaults in the womb. Chocolate locks were splayed across the pillow, and a single lock fluttered every so often by her own even breathing.
Seven months. It had been seven months—six since the actual pregnancy had been discovered, and seven total of swearing, morning sickness, engorged abdomens, swollen ankles, unreasonable food cravings and, what's more, the stupid, over dramatic and completely shocking self consciousness she had never felt in her life before—yes, Haruhi Suoh felt fat. And her husband's proclamations of "You look wonderful pregnant!" and "Would you like more cake?!" were not helping in the slightest, which was exactly why she was sleeping with her back to him.
And Tamaki was not happy about it. What was more, he wanted to compliment her again—in a different way.
"Haruhi?" His voice was irking her. "Haruhi, are you awake?"
"No."
"But you just answered my question!" He sounded affronted, and was speaking at far too normal of volumes for her to be able to actually ignore and go back to sleep to. The pregnant woman was silent and remained still, even when she felt a hand resting on her side and reaching over to rub her ballooned stomach. "You look beautiful pregnant..."
She wanted to smack him.
"Let me prove it to you?" His tone—recognizable—make her scowl to at the wall opposite to her, eyes snapping open in the darkness before she spun over onto her back and glared at her husband. Tamaki smiled. "I want to make you feel how I feel about you."
"Stop it." She deadpanned. "I'm not in the mood, and I will slap you if you try anything."
Tamaki's hand retracted and he gave her a hurt look. "I just wanted to—"
"No. Keep your hands to yourself and you 'feelings' in your pants." She rolled back onto her side and glowered before closing her eyes and grumpily growling out, "I want to sleep."
And he was silent, leading Haruhi to believing that she'd won and preparing to fall into the deep sleep that the lack of baby activity promised. And then she felt it again, his hand, slowly running up and down her spine with a sweet, loving touch. It sent bolts of electricity running through her veins before concentrating on her breast and groin.
Another hand joined the mix, reaching around again to caresses her stomach, rubbing in small circles that gradually got bigger and bigger until his thumb brushed her breasts, sending more violent shivers throughout her system. A low moan broke the silence, followed by a breathy giggle that was more smile than anything and, in horror, Haruhi realized that the moan had come from her and that—
"Tamaki..." her voice was shaky, giving him the satisfaction of knowing that she was now, undeniably turned on. "W-what are you doing?"
"Just showing you how much I love you," was his reply to the warning. "And how beautiful you look. You're glowing. You have been for the longest time, and it's just been so hard keeping my hands off you..."
Another guttural moan and his hand slipped up her night shirt, rubbing her stomach again before reaching even farther upwards to cup her breasts, playing with pert nipples softly. The hand that was supposed to be playing patterns along her back moved around her front, too, going the opposite direction and rubbing her slowly through the material of her sleep pants.
"T-Tamaki..." Haruhi rolled onto her back again, eyes a shade darker and slightly pissed, connecting with Tamaki's own amethyst eyes, filled with need, want and love.
"Come here, Haruhi," he entices, leaning back and extracting his hands from her clothing and rolling back as the woman moved towards him, face serious and actions slightly predatorily. Tamaki rolled onto his back as his wife swung her legs onto either side of his hips, providing much appreciate friction to the tented arousal, to which Tamaki hissed out in pleasure.
The brunette allowed both arms to raise above her head as she was divested of her shirt, leaving enlarged breasts out in the open, and allowing the moonlight that shone in from the large windows to play across her skin, making her sparkle and gleam seemingly. It didn't take much longer for the rest of their cloths to join hers, crumpled unceremoniously in the bed sheets as two naked bodies engaged in a dance of sweat, skin, pleasure.
Haruhi topped, something she rarely did, but any other way caused her back to erupt in pain, and Tamaki didn't mind, holding her hips and occasionally rubbing her stomach as she rode him, head lolled back and muscles twisting from the intense heat she felt rushing through her—all of her. Baby and all.
She moans in a little half scream as she orgasms, before Tamaki, and perfectly content to ride out the pleasure as he comes, contorting in a mix of pleasure and relief and they stay, panting and close until Haruhi suddenly stiffens and clambers off Tamaki, returning to laying on her side, occasionally jumping as if she suffered from the hiccups.
There was a hand on her side again, rubbing up and down in a comforting manner. "Haruhi, what's wrong?"
She glowers, pissed off again. "The baby's kicking." That is, until an idea ran through her mind and she turned, leering at her husband with mock sweetness. "I think he liked it, too."
The rest of her pregnancy is peaceful.