Chapter171 His cum leaking out of me

Chapter171 His cum leaking out of me
Chloe

Mia looked down at Liora in the cradle and spoke softly. “She’s beautiful,” she said quietly. “She can grow up in a happy family. That’s… really good.”

I heard everything she wasn’t saying.

She knew I caught it. She gave one small nod, then turned with Evelyn and walked away without looking back.

When the car finally disappeared, something inside me cracked open. The tears came fast. Not from sadness. From the sudden, overwhelming knowledge that every lie, every secret, every late-night favor from our friends was for this exact moment.

Julian had planned it all. He had waited months. I had waited months. And now the waiting was over.

He stood and pulled me with him. His voice was low, rough at the edges.

“The villa’s ready. Just us.”

We walked to the car hand in hand. Julian glanced at me once, his eyes lingering on my face longer than necessary.

I met his gaze and felt a quiet understanding pass between us—no more secrets, no more half-truths, no more people waiting to pull us apart.

His thumb brushed over the back of my hand, a small, steady pressure that said everything we didn’t need to voice.

In the car, the silence felt different. Not heavy, but charged. I kept thinking about how the day was finally ours. No more pretending, no more interruptions. Just us.

The realization made my pulse quicken in a way that had nothing to do with sadness anymore.

The drive felt endless. The second the door to the master suite closed behind us, the air changed.

Julian’s eyes dropped to my body and stayed there. I was still in the simple silk dress from the ceremony, but my breasts were heavier now, swollen from nursing Liora. The fabric stretched tight across them.

I could feel the faint dampness already starting to soak through. His jaw tightened. I watched the muscle jump under his skin.

“Fuck,” he muttered. His voice was deeper than usual, thick with months of held-back need. “Look at you.”

He didn’t give me time to answer. He crossed the room in two strides, grabbed the back of my neck, and kissed me like he had been starving. His tongue pushed in deep. One hand slid down to palm my ass, squeezing hard enough to lift me onto my toes.

I could feel how hard he was already, thick and heavy against my stomach.

He broke the kiss only to yank the dress down. My breasts spilled free, nipples already tight and beading with milk. A single drop rolled down the curve of one. Julian’s eyes went dark.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed. His hand cupped the underside of my breast, thumb brushing over the wet peak. “They’re so swollen. You have no idea what seeing you like this does to me.”

He lowered his head and drew one nipple between his lips without warning. The suction was strong, almost demanding. Milk welled up at once. He groaned deep in his chest, the sound vibrating against my skin as he drank.

His tongue lapped at the flow, swallowing with quiet hunger. One hand kept me pressed against him while the other worked open his pants.

I moaned, fingers sliding into his hair. “Julian—”

He pulled off with a wet sound, lips glistening. “Tastes so fucking sweet.” He moved to the other breast, drawing harder this time.

A thin stream trailed from the first nipple down my stomach. He paid it no mind. He fed with steady, insistent pulls, teeth grazing lightly, tongue pressing until I trembled.

By the time he lifted his head, his cock was out, thick and flushed dark. He stroked himself once, slow, gaze fixed on the milk still tracing down my skin.

“Turn around,” he ordered, voice hoarse. “Hands on the bed.”

I obeyed. The second I bent over, he was behind me, yanking my panties down. He didn’t wait. He pushed in with one hard thrust, burying himself to the hilt. We both groaned.

He was bigger than I remembered, or maybe I was just that sensitive now. He didn’t start slow. He drove into me like he was trying to make up for every night he couldn’t touch me.

Each thrust was deep and possessive. His hips slapped against my ass. One hand gripped my hip hard enough to bruise while the other reached around to rub my clit in tight circles.

Milk continued to bead and trickle from my breasts with every movement, dotting the sheets.

“Been thinking about this every fucking night,” he growled, leaning over me. His chest pressed against my back. “Watching these change, knowing they’re this way because of our baby. Couldn’t stop picturing you like this—wet, aching, mine.”

I pushed back against him, desperate. “Harder. Please—”

He gave it to me. The pace turned brutal. The headboard slammed into the wall. His balls slapped against me with every thrust. I came first, clenching around him so hard my knees nearly buckled. He didn’t stop. He kept moving straight through it, chasing his own release with raw, hungry strokes.

When he finally came, he buried himself deep and stayed there, grinding in slow circles like he wanted to push it even deeper. But he didn’t pull out. He stayed inside me, breathing hard against the back of my neck.

“Still not enough,” he muttered.

He pulled out only to flip me onto my back. My breasts felt even heavier now, tender and flushed. He climbed over me and sank back in, slower this time but no less intense.

His mouth found my nipple again. He suckled while he moved inside me, drawing in long, steady pulls. Every time he swallowed, his cock twitched.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and held him close. The wet sounds of him drinking mixed with the slap of skin. I was already close again. He knew.

He shifted his angle, hitting that spot inside me with every thrust while his tongue worked my nipple.

“Come for me,” he said against my breast. “Let me feel it.”

I did. Harder than before. My whole body shook. Milk released in a sudden rush into his mouth. He groaned like it was the best thing he had ever tasted and kept drinking even as he started to come again, filling me a second time.

We didn’t stop there.

He took me on the floor, against the wall, in the shower with water running over both of us. Every time he saw milk on my skin he had to taste it. Every time I moaned his name he grew harder.

Months of restraint had turned into something feral. He was relentless, possessive, completely undone by the sight of my body after giving birth.

By the time the sky started to lighten, we were both wrecked. I was lying on my back, legs spread, his cum leaking out of me.

Julian was between my thighs again, but slower now, gentler, licking and suckling at my swollen nipples while his fingers worked inside me.

He lifted his head, eyes glassy with satisfaction and something deeper.

“Mine,” he said quietly. “Every part of you.”

I reached down and pulled him up to kiss me. I could taste my own milk on his tongue.

“Yours,” I answered.

Outside, the ocean kept rolling in. Inside, there was nothing left between us except the heat we had finally stopped holding back.