Chapter Fourteen #4
I sat on the edge of my bed, letting an exhausted sigh sweep out of me. Caine was putting Minnie down for her nap—at her insistence.
She’d been sleeping in the cot in her nursery more often lately.
A slow development as my nerves had spiked the first few nights, waking to the realisation she wasn’t in my room, but it made sense to transition now while she was happy enough to do it.
Her easy compliance probably had a lot to do with Caine being more involved in her routine. She really did like the guy.
I’d have to teach her to be a better judge of character.
My face twisted with a grimace as another twinge rippled under my shirt.
My chest was killing me, even worse than it was before.
I didn’t even have to touch it now for the ache to radiate.
It was like a bruise at its peak, when even moving too suddenly had it throbbing.
Still, I brought my palm up to rub gently over the area, a natural reflex, but sharp pain met the pressure.
I stood up and strode over to the mirror, peeling off my T-shirt as I went. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head.
One side was at the size ready for nursing, a slightly more curved appearance than its standard flatness.
But the other was fuller, and there was a patch of redness inflaming the skin.
They typically only swelled a little, just enough inside both for a single feed before they would shrink back to nothing. This wasn’t normal.
Instinct told me to squeeze it, to try emptying it and ease the building strain, but my fingers barely dimpled the skin before it started aching.
I bit down on my tongue, redirecting my focus, and pushed through.
A single droplet of milk beaded on my nipple.
“Fuck,” I gasped, stopping, hands shaking.
My eyes were watering, and a coil of panic started to creep in.
“Do you—” Caine paused in the doorway, his gaze dropping to where I cupped my pec. “Something’s wrong.”
It was a statement, and he was one hundred percent correct. “It’s fine, I’m fine, it’s just . . .” I trailed off, my throat tight. “I’ll sort it, you can—”
“Do you need a doctor?” he asked, and I shook my head, but it was a weak protest. My exhale was wobbly.
“I don’t think so,” I said unconvincingly, looking back at my reflection.
“I think my duct is blocked—there’s a bit of a lump, and Minnie biting or suckling too hard never looks this bad.
The pump might ease it a bit? But it’s excruciating, and when I squeeze, barely a few drops are coming out.
” I hated how my voice cracked with every word, and tears stung my eyes, but I glanced over at him anyway.
He didn’t seem to be judging, and it was enough for me to say, “This has never happened to me before. I don’t really know what to do. ”
His jaw was set, and he almost looked . . . concerned?
“I do,” he stated, stunning me.
“What? How?”
His chest rose with a stiff breath. “My mother insisted my brother and I were given a practical education on birth and biology, in preparation for the likelihood we would have children of our own. He loathed the thought of anyone being saddled with an incompetent mate, even more so that said mate would be one of his sons.”
That actually explained a lot, but I couldn’t give it the attention it deserved right now. “What will help?”
“If I remember correctly, the medical advice is painkillers and ice,” he reeled off as if he was an encyclopaedia of knowledge. “But a quicker and more efficient way can be for a partner to . . . gently suck it.”
My hands rose to cover my chest protectively. “Not a chance. It hurts too much.”
“I know.” He tipped his head slightly. “Well, I don’t, but I understand, and my tutor swore by the method. She said it was typically a last resort, but it always gave her partner instant relief. It’s worth a shot, and if it doesn’t work, we’ll try everything else, and I’ll call for the doctor.”
I hesitated.
It really did fucking hurt, and the thought of having to wait for a doctor wasn’t all that appealing. Though, was it a better choice than having Caine do . . . that?
Another twinge of pain decided for me. I swallowed my reluctance, and nodded wetly. “Stupid body, why is it doing this to me?” I muttered to myself, wiping at my eyes, irritated I was being fragile in front of him again. In need of his help.
Why was my body making a fool out of me? Making me look weak and—
“Your body grew our child, birthed her, and now it feeds her,” he stated, reserved and firm, yet there was another note I couldn’t place. “It is not stupid.”
My mouth opened and shut. I didn’t know what to say.
“Sit on the bed,” he instructed, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. I perched on the edge, and he marched over, shocking me when he lowered onto one knee between my legs. “Is this position comfortable?”
“It’s fine,” I squeaked.
With a clinical nod, he pried my hand away from my chest, and with a tenderness I didn’t know he possessed, he cradled my swollen pec. He barely paused for me to regulate, just leaned in from underneath, placed his lips fully around the nipple, and sucked.
My hands flew to his hair, tugging the strands harshly as pain lanced through me. “I can’t,” I cried out, teeth gritted. “It hurts. Caine, it hurts.”
Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision, though when he withdrew, peering up at me, I saw a pitying glimmer in his eye, which had to be a trick of the light. “I know, darling, but can you endure it a little longer for me?”
My brain flipped with the unexpected pet name, but my nipple was on fucking fire and I didn’t even have the impudence to call him out on it. I sniffled, nodding, and tightened my lips into a thin line, biting them between my teeth as he carefully latched on again.
The agony was intense and sharp, but it didn’t last. The scent of wood and amber flooded my nose, rich and dark, but soothing.
I inhaled eagerly, using his pheromones as the pain relief he no doubt intended them to be.
My head swam, and my skin tingled with pleasant goosebumps.
The pain was still there, but duller, manageable.
My fingers loosened in his hair and I glanced down, watching him as he massaged the pec in his hand and his mouth softly tugged and pinched. He was careful, concentration painted on his brow as he changed angles.
I didn’t know if it was the haze or wishful thinking, but it felt like seconds before he was unlatching again, rising to his feet and striding to the en suite.
My senses drifted back down to their normal state, his scent receding, and I heard him spit into the sink. I lifted my hand to my chest, prodding at the area. It was sensitive, but no longer sharp or pulsing, and with a light squeeze, milk streamed out.
Relief sagged my shoulders, and I just breathed.
The bath was running.
Caine strolled back into the room. “Any better?”
I nodded, my tongue feeling a little too big for my mouth to properly form words.
“Good,” he acknowledged. “The bath is running. I added Epsom salts—it should soothe your skin and ease any remaining aches.”
“Thank you,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
He dipped his head and made his way toward the door. Pausing on the threshold, his fingers flexed at his side before he glanced at me over his shoulder. “Call if you need anything further,” he offered. “I will listen out for Minseo, and settle her if she stirs.”
With that, he left, his footsteps near silent as he retreated down the hallway.
I fished in the top drawer of my bedside table, removing the bag with my pump inside before heading toward the bathroom.
Ignoring how my traitorous heart was fluttering for the second time that day.