We're Married, After All - Chapter 88
The midwife returned to the birthing room, took the baby in her arms, and quietly left. As soon as she was gone, exhaustion crashed over me like a tidal wave.
“Would you like to rest for a while?”
“Mm… just a little.”
I tugged at Danel’s collar, pulling him closer.
“You rest too.”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m resting with you.”
At my insistence, Danel climbed into the bed without hesitation. Though mindful of my still-fragile body, he didn’t embrace me as he usually did. He simply lay beside me and held my hand gently.
Finally, wrapped in peaceful silence, I closed my eyes—holding the hand of a man who had endlessly longed for my love, yet could never quite believe in it.
Despite the grueling delivery, my body recovered surprisingly fast. Even though larger babies can cause complications, I suffered no lasting aftereffects—except for one frustrating issue: my milk supply.
It was strange. My b*****s were painfully full and swollen, yet barely produced any milk when the baby latched on. Even when I tried to squeeze it out, only a few drops of thin liquid seeped out—not nearly enough to feed the baby.
To make matters worse, I was plagued by mastitis. My chest felt heavy, tender, and unbearably painful—like carrying stones strapped to my chest whenever I felt unwell.
Finally, Danel called for Janna. As an experienced physician capable of brewing potions potent enough to terminate pregnancies, she was likely to have a solution.
Indeed, Janna prescribed something unconventional: she suggested I seek Danel’s help.
If she had been a typical noble physician or less familiar with me, she might have recommended a different treatment. But Janna, accustomed to treating commoners with practical remedies, also understood how I felt about Danel. She was someone we could trust.
Danel clearly recognized that too—his face twisted the moment he heard the prescription.
“…Me? You mean me?”
“She said it’s faster with someone else’s help. Especially if it’s someone you feel comfortable with.”
Janna’s exact words were “Stimulate the milk ducts daily for better flow.” Danel repeatedly pressed his fingertips to his brow—a familiar reaction when he was deeply conflicted.
This wasn’t the first time. Even during my pregnancy, Danel struggled with desire. He was used to controlling himself, but whenever he saw my b*****s leaking, I could see his restraint fraying. Often, he would end up pleasuring me with his mouth—though he never dared to suckle from my b*****s directly.
And now, the urge was back—heightened by our emotional closeness. Though the physician had cleared us for intimacy, Danel still held back, afraid of getting me pregnant again.
The truth was, I was the one suffering. He often satisfied me with his hands and mouth, but it was never enough. Having experienced the deep pleasure of being filled by him, I craved more.
Maybe… I could use this situation as an excuse. After all, it was for my health.
Danel exhaled sharply, seemingly realizing why Janna had left the estate immediately after the consultation and why I hadn’t mentioned the prescription until nightfall.
“…How… how should I… help?”
He already knew he couldn’t refuse me.
Slowly, I untied the ribbon running down my nightgown. In the soft, dim light, my swollen b*****s spilled free—taut and painfully sensitive.
Danel’s gaze locked onto my flushed n*****s, where faint droplets of milk had already begun to form. It was the result of my earlier attempts to express milk for the baby.
“….”
“Trace the veins… gently… like this.”
My voice faltered, caught in my throat by the heat burning in Danel’s eyes.
Then, a large, calloused hand slid up my waist, trembling slightly as it cupped my b****t.
Danel’s fingers hesitated, twitching as he fought to steady his breathing. I had never seen him this tense before.
Finally, his fingertips began moving along the blue veins visible beneath my skin—light, careful strokes that followed the milk ducts. The soft, rhythmic motions were accompanied by the faintest, slick sound of skin on skin.
Before long, warm droplets of milk began beading on my n****e, one by one. A firm, heavy pressure I hadn’t realized I was holding in my chest seemed to ease. Janna was right—the ducts were finally clearing.
Relief flooded through me. My b*****s felt lighter and softer, and I was certain the baby would now be able to nurse without difficulty.
But I couldn’t focus on that.
A helpless moan escaped my lips as heat pooled deep between my thighs. My underwear clung to my damp skin, soaked through in an instant.
Since that day in the hospital room, Danel hadn’t touched me—not even once. I could barely recall the intense feeling of him filling me, pressing deep into my core…
Or rather, I could remember it too well. Every desperate thrust, every pulse of his release—it all burned vividly in my memory. I wanted it again—needed it.
If I pushed him down right now… maybe…
I clenched my hands into fists against the sheets, eyeing Danel’s broad shoulders. If I could just press against him hard enough, I might pin him beneath me—might finally close the unbearable distance between us.
Just as I gathered the will to act, my body tilted backward.
Surprised, I realized Danel had pressed his head against my shoulder, gently pushing me away.
