My Brother-in-Law’s Postpartum Massage Trap - Chapter 6: Chapter 6
You are reading My Brother-in-Law’s Postpartum Massage Trap, Chapter 6: Chapter 6. Read more chapters of My Brother-in-Law’s Postpartum Massage Trap.
His Adam's apple bobbed—we were clearly thinking the same thing.
Careful not to wake our sleeping child, my husband swept me into his arms and carried me straight to the study.
Absence had only sharpened the hunger between us.
And after his earlier teasing, the fire inside me burned hotter than ever.
I clung to his neck, more desperate than before, even whispering that we should go again.
But he refused.
With a gentle pat on my back, he reminded me—softly, firmly—that I'd just finished postpartum recovery and shouldn't push myself too hard.
I smiled and nodded, slipping away to check on our peacefully sleeping baby.
But I knew the truth. He hadn't been satisfied. Every touch, every lingering glance, betrayed his hunger.
Normally, he took his time—savoring, indulging. But today had been rushed.
And that told me everything. Even if he hadn't had his fill, his desire for me had dulled.
It was like being told, "You're... just okay."
I'd never given much thought to postpartum recovery before. But now? A quiet panic set in.
I needed to start my regimen—fast.
Because if I didn't, my husband would wander. And that would destroy me.
I'd planned to sign up for a recovery program myself—until I saw the prices. Tens of thousands? That could buy a mountain of formula.
But I couldn't ignore this. Not if I wanted to keep him.
After days of hesitation, I finally brought it up—asking if his older brother could... help me instead.
My husband had been mindlessly scrolling through his phone, but the second I mentioned it, his attention snapped to me.
In one smooth motion, he pulled me into his lap, kissing me hard while his hands explored with renewed hunger.
"My wife is already perfect," he murmured against my skin. "But with a little more training? You'd be unstoppable. Then we could..."
Careful not to wake our sleeping child, my husband swept me into his arms and carried me straight to the study.
Absence had only sharpened the hunger between us.
And after his earlier teasing, the fire inside me burned hotter than ever.
I clung to his neck, more desperate than before, even whispering that we should go again.
But he refused.
With a gentle pat on my back, he reminded me—softly, firmly—that I'd just finished postpartum recovery and shouldn't push myself too hard.
I smiled and nodded, slipping away to check on our peacefully sleeping baby.
But I knew the truth. He hadn't been satisfied. Every touch, every lingering glance, betrayed his hunger.
Normally, he took his time—savoring, indulging. But today had been rushed.
And that told me everything. Even if he hadn't had his fill, his desire for me had dulled.
It was like being told, "You're... just okay."
I'd never given much thought to postpartum recovery before. But now? A quiet panic set in.
I needed to start my regimen—fast.
Because if I didn't, my husband would wander. And that would destroy me.
I'd planned to sign up for a recovery program myself—until I saw the prices. Tens of thousands? That could buy a mountain of formula.
But I couldn't ignore this. Not if I wanted to keep him.
After days of hesitation, I finally brought it up—asking if his older brother could... help me instead.
My husband had been mindlessly scrolling through his phone, but the second I mentioned it, his attention snapped to me.
In one smooth motion, he pulled me into his lap, kissing me hard while his hands explored with renewed hunger.
"My wife is already perfect," he murmured against my skin. "But with a little more training? You'd be unstoppable. Then we could..."
End of My Brother-in-Law’s Postpartum Massage Trap Chapter 6. Continue reading Chapter 7 or return to My Brother-in-Law’s Postpartum Massage Trap book page.