Emma woke at 4:17 a.m. with the collar still tight around her neck and the black silicone ring cool against her finger. Mark was snoring softly beside her, one arm draped over her sagging belly like he’d done every night since the promotion trip. She could feel the fresh plugs from last night still locked deep inside her, the slow, steady leak of milk soaking through her tank top and pooling between her massive t**s. The house was quiet except for the faint baby monitor crackle from the nursery and the low hum of the fridge downstairs.
She didn’t bother waiting for them to text. She knew they’d already been in the basement, already waiting, already hard.
Marcus was sprawled on the couch in nothing but his boxers, whiskey bottle empty beside him. Jax leaned against the kitchen island, pho
