Emma woke to the familiar tug in her chest and a low, insistent throb between her legs that had nothing to do with the baby’s kicks and everything to do with the memory of the night before. The plugs were still buried deep Marcus and Jax had left them in when they dropped her off after the park, just long enough for her to sleep. She’d felt them shift every time she rolled over, the silicone stretching her open, keeping her full and warm even while Mark slept upstairs thinking about their second child. The collar was gone by morning; she’d slipped it off sometime around 4 a.m., but the silver chain from last night still dangled between her t**s like a secret reminder.
Mark was already gone, another early shift. She didn’t text them. She didn’t need to. They’d been texting for weeks now sh
