She lay on the bed, her black hair fanning out in a tumbled mess. Sunlight streaming in through the bedroom window highlighted the warm cream of her skin, the fine line of her throat as she looked up at him with heavy lidded, but loving eyes.
He lay next to her, his fingers trailing along the softness of her thigh and the roundness of her hip. Tossing his long silver hair to one side, he moved over her, and began a series of warm kisses, starting at her neck, moving down the line of her throat, in between her breasts, and down towards her navel.
Reaching that point, he stopped, and rested his cheek against the softness there, and rested a hand, gently and protectively over the warm skin.
She reached down and curled a finger in his silver hair.
“What ya doing?” she asked, her voice husky, but relaxed and drowsy.
“Listening,” he said. A single triangular ear flicked, as if to emphasize his words.
“Silly. You won’t be able to hear anything yet.” She smiled at him fondly.
“Feh,” he replied. “Sure I can. I can hear you.” He looked up, smiled back at her, and moved up to lay beside her, but replaced his hand over her abdomen. “And I can smell.” He rubbed his hand lightly over her navel area. “And you smell special, the way a woman with child does. The way my woman with child does.”
His hand slid up her body to pull her close, and he kissed her, long, slowly, and deeply. “So delicious,” he murmured.
Kagome returned his kiss with a quick kiss back, and with a sigh, sat up. “Speaking of delicious,” she said, reaching over and brushing his cheek with her fingers, “You better get dressed. Atae’ll be home soon, and he’ll expecting dinner.” Kagome stood up and reached for her under kosode.
As she bent over, InuYasha grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back to the bed. “I’d rather eat you,” he said, kissing her neck.
Kagome laughed. “You might like it, but what would you give to your son? I think rabbit stew might be a better choice.”
InuYasha sighed, stood up, and grabbed his hakama, then walked over and wrapped her in his arms. “Rabbit stew it is, but I know what I’ll want for dessert.”
She kissed him on the chin, then broke free of his embrace. Grabbing the rest of her clothes, she slipped out of the sleeping room, turned, and gave her husband a wicked smile. “We’ll see,” she said, and closed the door behind her.