Chapter 2
TWO
Lane
I'm staring.
I know I'm staring, and I can't stop.
Esmeralda has shifted both babies into position, and now her hands move to the hem of her blouse. My throat goes dry. I know what's about to happen. She told us she's lactating. She asked permission to nurse them.
But knowing something intellectually and witnessing it are two entirely different things.
She pulls her blouse down. Her bra follows. And suddenly I'm looking at the most magnificent pair of breasts I've ever seen in my life.
They're huge. Full. Heavy. Her pale skin is luminous in the soft nursery light, and her areolae are large and dusky pink, the kind that would fill my mouth perfectly.
Her nipples are stiff and prominent, already glistening with moisture.
The web of veins under her skin makes me want to trace them one by one.
My cock goes from half-interested to painfully hard in the span of a single heartbeat.
Jesus Christ.
I force myself to breathe. To stay still. To not let my expression betray the fact that every drop of blood in my body has just rushed straight to my groin.
Beside me, Rhett has gone completely motionless. I don't need to look at him to know he's as affected as I am. I can feel the tension radiating off him like heat.
Esmeralda adjusts the babies gently, bringing them closer to her chest. Her breasts sway with the movement, and I watch a bead of milk form at the tip of her left nipple. Then another.
My cock throbs. I've always known I had a thing for lactation.
It's not something I advertise, but it's there.
The idea of a woman's body producing milk, nourishing life, being soft and full and fertile—it does something primal to me.
Makes me want to drink from her tits and worship her maternal body with my cock and hands.
But this? This is beyond anything I've ever imagined.
Esmeralda's breasts are swollen and heavy, practically begging to be touched. To be squeezed. To be drained. And when she guides Noah's mouth to her right breast and Nora's to her left, I have to clench my fists to keep from groaning out loud.
The babies latch on immediately. And Esmeralda gasps.
It's a soft sound. Barely audible. But I hear it, and it shoots straight through me like lightning.
Her head tips back slightly. Her lips part. Her eyes flutter closed for just a moment, and I watch her chest rise and fall as she adjusts to the sensation of two tiny mouths pulling at her nipples.
"There we go," she murmurs, her voice low and soothing. "That's it, sweet babies. Drink as much as you need."
Her fingers stroke Noah's head. Then Nora's. She's gentle. Patient. Completely focused on them.
And I'm completely focused on her.
On the way her breasts fill the babies' hands.
On the way her nipples disappear into their mouths.
On the way her body responds—relaxing, softening, giving.
She seems at ease, a smile on her face, like she's actually enjoying the process of breastfeeding.
Which I know she undoubtedly is. There's something so sweet and soft about her, something almost tender.
I can see the milk flowing. I can see the rhythm of their suckling. I can hear the tiny, wet sounds as they drink, and every single one of those sounds makes my cock pulse with need.
I want to be the one drinking from her. I want to feel her milk on my tongue. I want to wrap my lips around those swollen nipples and suck until she's empty. I want to squeeze her heavy tits and watch the milk spray, want to lick it off her skin, want to hear her moan my name while I drain her.
And I know—I know—that Rhett is thinking exactly the same thing. His gaze is fixed on her, and I can see the outline of an erection in his pants.
Esmeralda shifts slightly, adjusting her hold, and her breasts bounce. The babies dig their little hands into her soft flesh, kneading instinctively, and she makes a sound.
A whimper. It's so fucking sexy, quiet and breathy. Almost helpless, like she can't deny the pleasure she feels at being a nurturer.
My cock jerks so hard I have to shift my stance to hide it.
"You're doing beautifully," Rhett says, and his voice is rougher than usual. I glance at him. His jaw is tight. His eyes are locked on Esmeralda's chest.
She blushes, but she doesn't look away. "Thank you. I've... I've never actually done this before. Not with real babies. But it feels right."
"It looks right," I say before I can stop myself.
Her gaze flicks to mine, and for a moment, we just stare at each other.
She's stunning. Absolutely stunning. Her hair is falling around her shoulders. Her cheeks are flushed. Her body is soft and curved and fertile, and she's sitting in our nursery feeding our children from her own breasts.
I've never wanted anyone more in my entire life.
"You look like a goddess," Rhett adds quietly.
Esmeralda's blush deepens. "I... thank you. That's very kind."
"It's not kind," I say. "It's true."
She bites her lip, and I nearly lose my mind.
"If I take this job," she says softly, "you'll probably see me doing this a lot. I hope that's okay."
I answer immediately. "You're hired."
Her eyes widen. "What?"
"You're hired," I repeat. "You can move in today if you want. We'll pay you weekly. Direct deposit into your account."
"But—" She looks between us, clearly shocked. "Don't you want to think about it? Check references? Interview other candidates?"
Rhett shakes his head. "We don't need to. You're perfect."
"You're exactly what they need," I add. "What we need."
Her lips part. For a moment, she looks like she might cry.
"Thank you," she whispers. "Thank you so much."
I nod, but I don't trust myself to say anything else. Because what I want to say is you're ours now, and that's not something you tell a woman you've just hired.
Even if it's true.
Esmeralda looks back down at the babies. They're still nursing, their little mouths working rhythmically. Her breasts are slightly less swollen now, but still enormous. Still perfect.
She hums softly, a soothing sound, and her fingers trace gentle circles on Noah's back.
"Sweet boy," she murmurs. "Such a good boy."
Her voice is so tender it makes my chest ache.
Nora makes a small sound, and Esmeralda smiles. "You too, sweetheart. You're doing so well."
She shifts again, and her breasts bounce heavily. Milk beads at the corner of Nora's mouth, and Esmeralda wipes it away with her thumb.
Another soft whimper escapes her and she presses her thighs together. I already know what that means. Being sucked from is making her pussy clench, which means she loves it as much as we love watching her do it.
My cock is so hard it hurts. It's a rock, trying to cut through my pants and escape.
I glance at Rhett. His expression mirrors mine—tight, controlled, barely holding it together.
"We'll give you some privacy," I say, my voice strained.
Esmeralda looks up, surprised. "Oh. You don't have to. I mean, if this is going to be my job, you'll see this all the time anyway."
"Even so," Rhett says smoothly. "We'll be in the study if you need anything."
She nods, but she looks almost disappointed.
Interesting.
I force myself to turn and walk out of the nursery. Rhett follows. The moment the door closes behind us, I lean against the wall and exhale hard.
"Fuck," Rhett mutters.
"Yeah."
"I'm so hard I can barely walk."
"Same."
We stand there for a moment, both of us trying to regain our composure. Then Rhett starts toward the study, and I follow.
The moment we're inside with the door closed, Rhett turns to me.
"She's perfect," he says.
"I know."
"Not just as a babysitter."
"I know."
"She'd make the perfect mother for our kids, too."
I run a hand through my hair. "I was thinking the same thing. She looks so happy feeding and taking care of babies, like that's what her soul longs for. She was so nervous when she came in, but the moment she was with Nora and Noah, it's like she turned into a different person."
Rhett paces. "Did you see the way she held them? The way she looked at them? She loves them already. And they love her."
"I saw."
"And those tits. God, those fucking milky tits. They're so massive and full of milk."
"Rhett."
"I'm just saying." He stops pacing and looks at me. "She's curvy. Soft. Feminine. Fertile as hell. Can you imagine her pregnant?"
I can. God, I can.
I can imagine her belly swollen and round, her breasts even fuller than they are now. I can imagine her nursing the twins while carrying our baby, balancing them on that beautiful bump. I can imagine her in our bed, her body ripe and glowing, her skin warm and soft under my hands.
"She'd look incredible," I say quietly. "She'd feel incredible."
"She'd look like she was made for us."
I meet his gaze. "She's exactly the kind of woman we've both been looking for."
"Nurturing," Rhett says.
"Caring."
"Maternal."
"And completely fucking gorgeous."
Rhett grins. "So we're agreed."
"That we want her? Yes."
His grin fades slightly. "But the question is—will she want us?"
I sigh and lean against the desk. "We come as a package, Rhett. A lot of women are shocked by the idea of a polyamorous relationship. Even if they're attracted to one of us, the idea of both of us together may still put her off."
"It's not conventional." Rhett sighs. "And she just got out of a bad situation. She's vulnerable. The last thing we should do is push her into something she's not ready for."
Rhett crosses his arms. "So what do we do?"
"We observe," I say. "We pay attention. We see how she responds to us."
"And if she responds well?"
"Then we seduce her."
Rhett raises an eyebrow. "That simple?"
"No," I admit. "It won't be simple at all. But I'm not going to be able to stop myself. I want her, Rhett. I want her so badly it's making me insane."
"Same."
"And if her blushing is anything to go by—if those little whimpers we just heard mean what I think they mean—then she's attracted to us, too."
Rhett's expression turns thoughtful. "You think so?"
"I know so."
"Then we take it slow."
"Slow," I agree.
But even as I say it, I know it's going to be torture.
Because Esmeralda is going to be living in our house. Sleeping under our roof. Walking around in those soft clothes that cling to her curves. Nursing our children with those magnificent breasts.
And I'm going to have to watch. And wait. And somehow not lose my mind.
"This is going to be hell," Rhett mutters.
"Absolute hell," I agree.
He grins. "But worth it."
"Definitely worth it."
Because at the end of it—if we're patient, if we're careful, if we do this right—Esmeralda won't just be our babysitter.
She'll be ours.
Completely.
And I'll make damn sure she never wants to leave.