My Brother-in-Law’s Postpartum Massage Trap - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
You are reading My Brother-in-Law’s Postpartum Massage Trap, Chapter 4: Chapter 4. Read more chapters of My Brother-in-Law’s Postpartum Massage Trap.
The sudden rush of freedom instantly soothed the ache in my swollen breasts.
A final thread of sanity had me slapping my hand down, stopping him before he could pull up my shirt.
But it was too late—the moment had already slipped into dangerous intimacy.
His body hovered over mine, one hand tracing slow, teasing lines down my spine while the other pressed flat against my stomach, still cool from the lingering chill of the room.
A shiver raced through me.
Then Ryan Lowell's voice, low and amused, cut through the haze.
"Heard you skipped your postpartum recovery. Let me take care of that for you."
I was already drowning in him, barely registering his words. All I could see was his face—too perfect, too close—and the way his gaze darkened with intent.
I nodded without thought, my body burning with a need I'd never known before.
Desire blurred my vision, my thoughts.
It wasn't until his fingers dipped lower, curling into the lace of my panties with deliberate intent, that reality crashed back in.
"What are you—?"
My voice shook as I grabbed his wrist, but Ryan didn't even flinch.
Instead, he leaned in, his breath scorching against my ear, and the hand I was trying to stop only slid further down.
"Just making sure you're healing right," he murmured, his voice rough. "How else am I supposed to help you recover?"
There was something in his tone—something dark and persuasive—that unraveled me. Even with my husband just outside, even with the risk of being caught, I melted under his touch.
If this was part of the process… maybe it was okay.
I bit my lip, restless, as he pushed my skirt higher…
A final thread of sanity had me slapping my hand down, stopping him before he could pull up my shirt.
But it was too late—the moment had already slipped into dangerous intimacy.
His body hovered over mine, one hand tracing slow, teasing lines down my spine while the other pressed flat against my stomach, still cool from the lingering chill of the room.
A shiver raced through me.
Then Ryan Lowell's voice, low and amused, cut through the haze.
"Heard you skipped your postpartum recovery. Let me take care of that for you."
I was already drowning in him, barely registering his words. All I could see was his face—too perfect, too close—and the way his gaze darkened with intent.
I nodded without thought, my body burning with a need I'd never known before.
Desire blurred my vision, my thoughts.
It wasn't until his fingers dipped lower, curling into the lace of my panties with deliberate intent, that reality crashed back in.
"What are you—?"
My voice shook as I grabbed his wrist, but Ryan didn't even flinch.
Instead, he leaned in, his breath scorching against my ear, and the hand I was trying to stop only slid further down.
"Just making sure you're healing right," he murmured, his voice rough. "How else am I supposed to help you recover?"
There was something in his tone—something dark and persuasive—that unraveled me. Even with my husband just outside, even with the risk of being caught, I melted under his touch.
If this was part of the process… maybe it was okay.
I bit my lip, restless, as he pushed my skirt higher…
End of My Brother-in-Law’s Postpartum Massage Trap Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to My Brother-in-Law’s Postpartum Massage Trap book page.