Chapter 10: No Overthinking

His lips are so soft against mine for a man who looks like he can break me like a twig. I gasp and moan into his mouth as his tongue slips in between my lips. and my fingers tighten around his shirt.

I press closer until my sore breasts brush against his chest, like this is something we've done a hundred times before. Moon Goddess, I think I’m losing my marbles.

‘That ship has sailed, Chicka,’ Momo whispers inside my head.

Trojan’s hand slides around my waist and the next thing I know, I’m clean off the floor. He scoops me up like I weigh nothing, wrapping my legs around his waist. Something about the way he’s holding me sends a tingle between my thighs, like I belong in his arms.

Every step he takes toward the bathroom shifts me against the hard line of him and the friction makes me burn.

He puts me ass-down on the bathroom counter. The cool marble against my ass and the back of my thighs make me shiver, but it’s nothing compared to the heat that rolls through me when he spreads my legs and steps in between them, kissing me again.

His tongue traces the soft lining of my lips, slow and deliberate, making me cry out. Then his mouth leaves mine and finds the side of my neck.

Something inside me snaps open, and my head tips back to give him more access. My fingers dig into his shoulders, then claw down his back hard enough to leave marks as I hold on like I’m drowning. He groans into my neck like an alpha in rut.

Every suck and scrape of his teeth against my throat pulls another helpless sound out of me. I don’t even recognize the noises I’m making. They’re raw and needy and completely shameless.

His hand slips under my shirt. He finds my breast and squeezes over the bra and the thick pad underneath. The pressure sends a dull throb through the sore flesh that mixes with the ache already building lower. I make this trembling noise and arch into his palm.

“How sore are they?” he murmurs against my neck.

“Yes,” I moan.

He chuckles and pulls back just enough to drag my shirt up and off. His fingers move to the clasp of my bra and reality slams into me for half a second.

The pads. Milk probably smelling like I’ve been leaking all day. My hands go to his wrists and I bite my lip, blinking up at him.

He stops immediately and frowns. Then he leans in and presses the softest kiss to my mouth.

“No overthinking allowed,” he says against my lips before kissing me deeper.

I suddenly feel like I’m in limbo, with everything happening too fast and I’m not even sure I want to stop any of it. Especially not this part.

He slowly breaks the kiss and looks at me. “Are you okay?”

I blink rapidly and open my mouth for a second, only to close it again. Something flickers past his eyes and he moves to pull away. I find myself using my legs to keep him in place, making my face and neck feel like I just went through a volcano.

“I’m fine,” I finally whisper. “I’m more than fine.”

His brows furrow until I lean in and press my lips to his. He’s hesitant at first but doesn’t try to move away. I brush my tongue against his lips, seeking entry. He grants it and groans as my tongue meets his.

His hands return to my back and the bra comes off. The pads come away. He doesn’t comment on the wetness or the scent of milk. He just cups one bare, aching breast in his hand and brushes his thumb over the sensitive nipple until I whimper, breaking the kiss as my head falls back.

“Fuck, Billie.”

The way he says it while pinching my hard and sore nipples makes me think he has a fetish.

Then his hands travel downward until they are at the waistband of my shorts. He lifts me slightly off the counter and pulls them down my thighs and legs, along with my underwear and drops them on the floor.

I’m butt naked on the counter, legs still spread around him, completely exposed and so turned on I can feel how wet I already am. He watches me as he pushes his own clothes out of the way and the thick, hard length of him brushes against me. The contact makes my hips jerk.

He lines up but doesn’t push in. The tip of him presses against my clit, making me whimper and roll my hips against him.

“Look at me.” He growls, his voice throaty with need.

I wasn’t even aware my eyes were closed until I open them and meet his gaze.

“We haven’t done this since the kids were born,” he says. “I need to know you’re sure this is what you want.”

I nod because I don’t trust myself with words.

He chuckles. “I need the words, baby.”

“Yes, Alpha Trojan.”

He doesn’t wait after that. He shifts and pushes inside in one slow, deep thrust that steals whatever air I had left. My head falls back against the mirror with a soft thud. The stretch is so invasive but feels so good I cry out again, louder. My nails dig into his back as he starts to move, deep and round and round inside me, every stroke dragging against a place inside me that makes my thighs shake.