My Brother-in-Law’s Postpartum Massage Trap - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
You are reading My Brother-in-Law’s Postpartum Massage Trap, Chapter 3: Chapter 3. Read more chapters of My Brother-in-Law’s Postpartum Massage Trap.
Ryan Lowell's hands moved with practiced precision, his touch firm yet soothing, melting away my tension in minutes.
The warming essential oil tingled against my skin, sending heat radiating through my body. Something restless simmered beneath the surface, making my breaths come out sharp and uneven.
Must be the massage working, I told myself, though the sensation was unlike anything I'd felt before.
Just as I started to relax, Ryan paused.
I twisted to look back—only to see him kicking off his shoes, one foot already on the bed.
My stomach dropped. "What are you doing?"
He blinked, all wide-eyed innocence. "Home beds don't have the same support as massage tables. Some techniques need better leverage."
I hesitated, but his expression stayed professional—no hint of anything unspoken.
Once settled behind me, his movements changed.
Deeper. More deliberate.
His thumbs pressed into the sensitive points near my hips, sending sparks of pleasure laced with the faintest edge of pain. A moan slipped out before I could bite it back.
The sensation was dizzying—like tiny currents of electricity skimming up my spine. My body didn't feel like mine anymore, floating somewhere between tension and surrender.
Every press of his fingers pulled another sound from me, each one hotter, needier than the last. I barely recognized my own voice.
And worse—my thoughts spiraled.
His hands worked my waist with such strength, such purpose—I wanted more. Harder. Deeper.
Ryan's touch grew heavier, as if he'd heard my silent plea. Then, without warning, his fingers dipped lower, teasing the edge of my waistband.
My breath hitched.
The room was too quiet—every slick stroke of oil, every shaky exhale between us magnified.
A sudden, stinging slap on my backside snapped me back. "Turn over."
Dazed, I barely had time to process before his hand slid under my stomach—flipping me onto my back in one smooth motion.
I gasped.
His fingers trailed upward, unhooking my bra with terrifying ease.
The warming essential oil tingled against my skin, sending heat radiating through my body. Something restless simmered beneath the surface, making my breaths come out sharp and uneven.
Must be the massage working, I told myself, though the sensation was unlike anything I'd felt before.
Just as I started to relax, Ryan paused.
I twisted to look back—only to see him kicking off his shoes, one foot already on the bed.
My stomach dropped. "What are you doing?"
He blinked, all wide-eyed innocence. "Home beds don't have the same support as massage tables. Some techniques need better leverage."
I hesitated, but his expression stayed professional—no hint of anything unspoken.
Once settled behind me, his movements changed.
Deeper. More deliberate.
His thumbs pressed into the sensitive points near my hips, sending sparks of pleasure laced with the faintest edge of pain. A moan slipped out before I could bite it back.
The sensation was dizzying—like tiny currents of electricity skimming up my spine. My body didn't feel like mine anymore, floating somewhere between tension and surrender.
Every press of his fingers pulled another sound from me, each one hotter, needier than the last. I barely recognized my own voice.
And worse—my thoughts spiraled.
His hands worked my waist with such strength, such purpose—I wanted more. Harder. Deeper.
Ryan's touch grew heavier, as if he'd heard my silent plea. Then, without warning, his fingers dipped lower, teasing the edge of my waistband.
My breath hitched.
The room was too quiet—every slick stroke of oil, every shaky exhale between us magnified.
A sudden, stinging slap on my backside snapped me back. "Turn over."
Dazed, I barely had time to process before his hand slid under my stomach—flipping me onto my back in one smooth motion.
I gasped.
His fingers trailed upward, unhooking my bra with terrifying ease.
End of My Brother-in-Law’s Postpartum Massage Trap Chapter 3. Continue reading Chapter 4 or return to My Brother-in-Law’s Postpartum Massage Trap book page.