Newt throbs at the brush of Graves' fingers over his nipples. "You liked that?" Graves chuckles, kissing him from behind. He is cradled in Graves' arms. Safe and supported even as he feels heady pleasure coursing through his veins.
Graves is aroused and Newt can feel it pressing against the small of his back like a branding iron. "We need to be quiet." He whispers, squeezing his eyes shut when Graves seizes upon the opportunity to pinch this swollen nubs. Newt bites down on his bottom lip, body gone taut like a strung bow. "Bastard. That hurt!"
"But your bastard." Graves teases, soothing over the ache with his devilled hands gently massaging the flesh of his breasts. They will never hang heavy, but as it is, they fit perfectly into the cup of Graves' hands. Newt curls his toes when they are squeezed and his nipples are pulled. "Yours. Say that I am."
Reaching over to bring him close, Newt turns his head, latching on to Graves when their lips meet. He pours all the things he can never quite put to words into that kiss. Distantly, he registers a hand falling away from his breast to cup under the pregnant apex of his stomach. He hums into the lick and press of their tongues, sighing at the thrill that sings through him.
"Mine. Always." Newt purrs, fingers tangling in Graves' hair when they part. Dark eyes mark him, looking over him like he is the vision of paradise itself. Merlin knows what he looks like; flushed, kiss mussed, heavy with their fourth child, nipples swollen into stiff peaks and rubbed raw from Graves' stubble, cock leaking onto their sheets, lips bitten in the effort to be silent lest they wake their children. He must look a right -
"Perfection." Graves' hand is back on his breast again, both resuming their torturous ministrations on his nipples. Newt whines, choking on the sound as Graves mercilessly flicks one after the other alternating. "Do you think...?"
Newt's heart skips a beat. He knows what Graves is asking. He lays his hands over his husband's stilling their cruelty. "I think it'll be just like the last times. Not until the baby is here, I'm afraid." He tries for a smile, mind falling back onto how Graves had been looking forward to nursing milk from his breasts again. He doesn't have to be Queenie to pick up on Graves' fascination of sucking the milk out of his breasts, competing with his own children for sustenance. Newt tilts his head to nuzzle against Graves' jaw. A gesture of comfort.
Graves turns his head to kiss his brow. The pressure on his breasts become a gentle cradle. "Do you think you can come on just my mouth on your nipples?"
Newt snorts. "I think the amount of times I have not come by your mouth on my nipples or my cock, or even eating out my arse is nonexistent." He shifts his body, urging Graves to release him from the bracket of his limbs and body. Carefully, he manoeuvres himself onto Graves' lap, parking Graves' erection right between his arse cheeks, while his own sits heavy and leaking onto sweat slicked skin. Cupping his breast and guiding it to Graves' mouth. "Enough playing around. Suck."
The only answer he receives is the glint in lust-hazed eyes and the wet heat of a mouth wrapping around his aching nipples.