Hansel’s Enchanted Fairytale: Fill Me Up With Magic! - Chapter 113
She missed her daughter, but perhaps it could wait just a bit longer. Of course, Alice was her precious baby, someone she loved more than anything in the world, but people’s hearts sometimes worked in odd ways.
She had already pumped today’s milk supply. If she lazed around a little longer, finished her b****t massage, and then brought Alice back, it would still be fine.
Hansel pulled herself away from where she had been leaning. Fresh milk had leaked out again, dampening her n*****s into small circles of moisture. The blouse she was wearing had turned slightly translucent in a straight line down where the milk had run.
Hansel frowned lightly as she looked down at her milk-stained blouse.
“I think I produce more milk than most women. I asked Mom about it the other day, and she said she didn’t have it this bad.”
Without the b****t pump Dante had made for her in his workshop, Hansel thought she might have spent every waking moment of her day pumping like a dairy cow.
The workshop had been added when they rebuilt their home. Most of the items crafted there were for the baby. Margaret had supplied Alice with the most luxurious and expensive items from across the continent, but Dante’s dedication wasn’t far behind. He created all sorts of magical toys that captivated Alice, even enchanting wooden bunny dolls to move on their own like little machines.
On the day Alice became enthralled by the animated dolls acting out a play, Hansel had clearly witnessed the looks of defeat cross both Margaret and the werewolf’s faces. A few days later, the werewolf escalated matters by bringing home a real fairy, throwing the household into an uproar.
In truth, however, most of the items Dante created were for Hansel.
From the b****t pump that extracted just the right amount automatically to massage devices, warming tools, and self-adjusting heated cushions—Dante had essentially turned into a hermit alchemist, pouring his life into crafting magical tools to make Hansel’s life more comfortable. And for him, it was a deeply satisfying life.
His wife. His daughter. These two were the entirety of his world.
And that was more than enough.
“Dante, my chest is starting to feel sore again.”
“Should I stop the milk from coming out?”
“No, I don’t want that.”
“Why not?”
Dante tilted his head, puzzled. Hansel’s logic was often beyond him.
Hansel wiggled her toes.
“Well, if I did that, we’d have to hire a wet nurse. I don’t want Alice drinking someone else’s milk when mine is right here.”
“Hmm.”
“It’s just a little uncomfortable, not something I hate.”
Sometimes, people just needed to grumble a little. Dante didn’t seem to fully understand, tilting his head in confusion, but Hansel smiled, choosing not to elaborate further.
If you like something, you like it. If you don’t, you don’t. That’s how you work. You’ll probably never quite understand me.
Their personalities were completely different, but Hansel didn’t mind at all.
Hansel’s tangled and complex thoughts were balanced by Dante’s straightforward and transparent nature, like a clear glass pane. It was a dynamic Hansel, who now had a more optimistic outlook on life, had come to appreciate.
“Then I’ll massage your chest.”
Dante’s earnest voice made Hansel pause.
A whirlwind of various images flashed through her mind. She’d heard of men who engaged in strange acts of sucking milk like they were newborns. Could Dante have read something about this in one of Madame Virginia’s books…?
Hansel scrutinized his face carefully.
There wasn’t a shred of inappropriate intent in his clean, expressionless face. His crimson eyes radiated nothing but genuine concern for her.
…Come to think of it, Dante had been the same when he helped massage her chest to relieve milk blockage. Sitting back-to-back with him in the bathtub, Hansel could always feel the intense pressure of his arousal beneath her, the unmistakable evidence of his size.
But Dante never crossed the line when it came to anything related to her health or comfort. His touch, while skilled, remained respectful and professional. It was an unwavering rule.
Hansel, knowing all too well how wild Dante could get, sometimes wished he’d lose control and overwhelm her with love. She’d even pressed her hips firmly against him in hopes of provoking a response, but all she got was a faint sign of his internal struggle.
Dante was wonderfully obedient if you told him what you wanted, but it was also frustrating that he required explicit instruction in situations like these.
So this time too, it was probably just a massage he had in mind.
Hansel tentatively undid the first button of her blouse. Taking it as a signal of agreement, Dante moved to unfasten the second button, but Hansel gently grabbed his hand to stop him.
“Um, Dante.”
Dante paused and looked at her expectantly.
“Can you… suck it for me?”
