6. Soren
SOREN
Her words still sit in my chest like a stone.
“I need you inside me… But we can’t.”
I stay on the edge of the bed long after the door closes behind her. The taste of her milk lingers on my tongue. The wetness from her cunt is still on my fingers.
Everything in me wants to go after her, pull her back, finish what we started. Instead, I stay exactly where I am and let the full weight of what she said settle.
“We can’t let this relationship ruin you and your career.
You built it from scratch. Anyone finding out about us would destroy everything you’ve worked for.
The company’s already getting more attention.
People are starting to recognize your face.
If you keep going in front of cameras, there will be no way to hide this. ”
She’s right.
It’s already hard enough keeping this quiet under the same roof as Mom and Rick. One wrong look, one slip, and the whole thing blows up inside the house. Public eyes would leave us with nowhere left to hide. There would be no safe corner for us.
I don’t sleep.
I lie on my back staring at the ceiling until the sky outside the window starts to lighten, turning the whole thing over again and again.
The risks. The family. The business. The way she looked at me when she admitted she was starting to like me.
The way her body moved against mine even while she told me we couldn’t.
By the time the sun fully rises, the decision has already settled into place inside me, heavy and final.
I call my PA before anyone else is fully awake.
“Cancel the television appearance,” I say, voice low so it won’t carry. “All of them. From now on, there will be no more public events. No interviews. No panels. Keep the company visible through the work and the numbers only. My face stays out of it.”
There is a short pause on the other end. “Sir… the visibility has been helping the numbers.”
“I know. We’ll find other ways. Press releases. Product focus. Let the results speak. I’m not doing the face-of-the-company route anymore.”
Another pause. Then a quiet, “Understood.”
I end the call and go down the hall to Selena’s room.
The door is unlocked.
Typical.
I step inside, lock it behind me, and cross to the bed.
She is still asleep, one arm curled under the pillow, dark hair spilled across the sheets. I hear the soft rise and fall of her breathing. The faint damp spots on the front of her sleep shirt where she has already started to leak again in the night.
I sit on the edge of the mattress and just look at her for a while.
Then, I move up beside her to reach out and brush a strand of hair away from her cheek. My fingers trace the line of her jaw, slow and careful. She stirs at the touch.
Her eyes open. For a second she just stares at me, still half asleep. Then awareness comes back and she pushes herself up on one elbow, voice quiet.
“Soren… what are you doing in here?”
“I already fixed it,” I say. “I canceled the television appearance. And every public one after it. From now on, I’ll stay behind the company. No more cameras. No more publicity.”
She blinks, fully awake now. “Why would you do that?”
I keep my voice even. “Because you were right. If my face keeps getting more known, hiding this gets impossible. So I removed the problem. The business can grow without me standing in front of it. There are other ways. I’ll handle it.”
She sits up straighter, the sheet slipping down her shoulder. “You can’t just… throw away opportunities like that. Your PA said so. The visibility was helping. You built this from nothing and now you’re stepping back because of me?”
“I’m not throwing them away.” I meet her eyes. “I’m choosing you. Over the spotlight. Over the easy path. Over anything that puts us at risk. I’m willing to sacrifice whatever it takes if it means I get to keep this… keep you.”
Silence stretches between us. I watch her process it. Her eyes search my face like she’s looking for any sign that I’m lying or already regretting it.
“I don’t want you to resent me for this later,” she whispers. “What if in a year or two you look back and realize you gave up too much? I couldn’t live with that.”
“I won’t.” I reach out and cup the side of her face, thumb brushing under her eye. “I’d resent myself more if I let you go. And I’d hate myself even more if my fame only ended up hurting you through other people’s judgment.”
A single tear falls down her cheek. I wipe it away with my thumb and leave my hand there, cradling her face.
“You’ve got nothing to worry about anymore,” I tell her quietly. “We’ll deal with the rest one step at a time.”
She leans into my palm for a second. Her breath is shaky. I feel the warmth of her skin. The air between us feels heavier now, charged with everything we still haven’t done and everything we both want.
Selena looks up and kisses me. The moment her lips meet mine the tension that has sat between us since last night rises, sharp and hungry. When she pulls back, her eyes are darker.
“Not here,” she whispers.
She takes my hand and stands. “Come with me.”
Selena leads me into her bathroom.
While I lock the bathroom door, then the outer bedroom door for good measure, she turns the shower on full power. Hot water roars against the tile and steam starts to rise. The sound is loud enough to cover almost anything.
I turn back to her. “Clothes off.”
She doesn’t hesitate. She pulls the sleep shirt over her head in one motion. Her breasts are heavy again, nipples already beading with milk. I strip out of my own clothes at the same time and step inside the shower with her, pulling her to me so the spray runs over both of us.
I kiss her.
It starts slow, deep and deliberate, the kind of kiss that makes her melt against me. My hands slide up her back, then lower, gripping her round ass and pulling her flush against my body. She makes a soft sound into my mouth when she feels how hard I already am.
I tilt her head and deepen the kiss, tongue sliding against hers, tasting her while the hot water pours over our shoulders.
I don’t rush it. I kiss her until her fingers are digging into my arms, until she’s rising up on her toes to get closer, until the only sound between us is the water and the quiet, needy way she breathes against my lips.
I kiss her once more—shorter, but just as deep—then drop to my knees on the wet tile. Water still runs over both of us.
I lift one of her thighs and hook it over my shoulder, opening her to me. I take a second just to look. Her pussy’s pink, already wet, perfect. Then I lean in and give her the first long, slow stroke of my tongue from bottom to top.
She gasps and reaches for the wall, fingers sliding against the slick tile.
“Soren—oh God?—”
I do it again, slower this time, dragging my tongue the full length of her and savoring every trace of her taste while the heat of the water pours over my shoulders.
Milk begins to drip from her nipples almost immediately.
Warm drops land on the crown of my head, then trail slowly down my forehead and over my cheeks.
I make no move to wipe away. I stay right there, sucking her clit between my lips while more milk runs into the corners of my mouth and mixes with the taste of her cunt. Sweet and salty at the same time. I can’t tell them apart anymore and I don’t want to.
“Don’t stop… please don’t stop,” she whispers, voice already shaking. “It feels so good when you—ah—when you do that.”
I push two fingers inside her and curl them, matching the rhythm of my mouth. She’s tight and soaked. Her free hand tangles in my wet hair and holds on.
She tries to stay quiet but the moans still slip out, soft and broken under the rush of the shower.
I keep the pace steady at first—long strokes of my tongue, firm suction, fingers working deep inside her—and every time I draw harder on her clit another warm trail spills down my face, sliding over my chin and onto my chest where it cools against my skin even as the rest of me stays burning under the spray.
“Fuck—your tongue—Soren, I’m gonna come if you keep eating me like that?—”
The desperate edge in her voice hits me hard.
I stop holding back. I suck her clit harder, curl my fingers faster, and don’t give her any room to breathe.
Her thigh tightens hard over my shoulder and her hips begin to rock against my mouth in short, helpless rolls.
As her body draws tight another sharp rush of milk breaks free across my face.
She comes hard, a broken cry half-lost in the water, her cunt clamping down around my fingers in tight pulses while I stay right there through every wave, licking and sucking without pause until the worst of the shaking finally eases.
Even after the peak passes I don’t pull away immediately. I keep my mouth on her, softer now, licking gently through the aftershocks while her fingers stay buried in my hair.
Her thigh trembles against my cheek.
“Fuck! You’re so good.” Small, helpless sounds keep leaving her throat every time my tongue brushes her oversensitive clit.
Only when her leg starts to give out and she has to lean harder against the wall do I finally ease back and stand.
I guide her down onto her knees in front of me. Water runs over her shoulders and down the heavy curves of her breasts. She looks up at me, cheeks flushed, lips parted, milk still beading at her nipples and dripping onto her thighs.
“You don’t have to take all of it,” I tell her, voice low and commanding. “Start slow.”
She wraps her fingers around the base of my cock. Her grip is uncertain at first—too light, a little unsure of the pressure. I cover her hand with mine for a moment, showing her exactly how tight I want it, then let go.
She leans in. The first tentative lick across the head makes my stomach tighten. She does it again, slower, tasting me.
“It’s… heavy,” she whispers, almost to herself.