Chapter 2

2.

The next morning, my husband was on top of things, taking time off work to drive me to the private clinic.

The moment we walked in, the sharp scent of antiseptic hit me. A young doctor in a white coat greeted us.

He looked fairly young, tall, maybe six-foot-two, with dark, soulful eyes.

He wore a blue surgical mask, obscuring part of his face, but he was clearly incredibly handsome.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Reed, and I specialize in postpartum recovery.”

His voice was cool and crisp, even through the mask.

My husband gave me a nudge. “Honey, tell Dr. Reed what’s going on. He’s the expert.”

Dr. Reed looked at me, his long lashes lowering, looking incredibly gentle.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

A male doctor for postpartum recovery?

How could I talk about such intimate issues with a man while my husband was standing right there?

Dr. Reed seemed to sense my discomfort and turned his gaze toward my husband.

“Would you mind stepping outside? It’ll make the examination easier.”

His tone wasn't aggressive, but it carried an air of absolute authority.

“Sure thing. I’ll be right outside, honey. Just follow the doctor’s lead.”

My husband didn't forget to give me a reminder as he left.

It was just the two of us now. My heart started racing, and I found myself nervously licking the lipstick right off my lips.

I clutched at the hem of my shirt like a guilty child.

Dr. Reed pulled a chair over for me, his voice soft. “Take off your top, please. Let’s check your chest first.”

I froze. I’d been hoping he’d send in a nurse.

Did I really have to take off my clothes? I just hovered there, not knowing where to put my hands.

“It’s alright. I’m a professional doctor. You don’t need to feel self-conscious.”

His voice was calm.

I was overthinking it. He was just a doctor, after all.

I slowly unbuttoned my shirt, leaving me in just my bra.

My pale pink silk bra was fully exposed. He narrowed his eyes, surveying my upper body.

“Please take off the bra as well, so I can examine you properly.”

The bra? That meant I’d be completely exposed.

Panic flared in me, and I instinctively covered my chest.

Seeing my clumsy reaction, Dr. Reed let out a small, suppressed chuckle.

“You’re so shy, you’d think you’d never been with a man before.”

I knew he was just teasing, but my heart was pounding.

The more nervous I got, the more uncomfortable I became. My chest began to throb with pain; I’d left the baby with a nanny today, and it was past time for a feeding. My breasts were usually full, and since I hadn’t fed in a while, they were aching and hard.

Doctors are observant. Seeing my pained expression, Dr. Reed reached out.

He was incredibly skilled; he unclasped my bra in one smooth motion.

Now, completely exposed, I tried to cover myself, but he gently brushed my hands away.

He leaned in, his cool fingers touching my skin, making me shiver violently.

He looked serious, his tone unchanged. “You’re dealing with clogged ducts. We need to clear these.”

I knew he was right. The pain was unbearable; I needed relief immediately.

Even though my face was burning, the relief of the ache made me nod silently.

Dr. Reed leaned closer, his hands working firmly, massaging the tissue.

The calluses on his palms grazed my skin, kneading and pushing. His technique was professional, and the soreness began to dissipate instantly.

His hands were firm. As he worked, some milk leaked out onto his palms.

His long fingers slid across my skin. His hands were large and warm, completely covering my chest, giving me a sense of security and satisfaction I’d never felt before.

I bit my lip, catching his gentle gaze, and suddenly snapped back to reality.

This stranger was touching my most intimate parts. Once the pain subsided, a wash of shame―and something undeniably pleasurable―rushed through me.

“Mmm… wait, go slower…”

I was shocked by my own voice. I hadn't meant to let that slip out.

Dr. Reed didn’t seem to notice―or he chose to ignore it―as he increased the pressure, massaging in slow, deliberate circles.

A wave of electric sensation flooded my system, and my legs felt like jelly. I felt myself getting wet!

He caught my shoulders just in time to pull me back up.

“How long has it been since you’ve been with your husband?”

He watched my body’s sensitive reaction, his palms still firmly cupping me.

“I… it’s been over two months.”

My voice was breathy and thick with mist. The pain was gone, but the emptiness inside me had only grown.

“Your blockage was quite severe. A healthy sex life helps relieve these issues,” he said plainly.

My body jolted, my face turning crimson. I tried to steady my breathing. “Doctor, can I… put my clothes back on? I feel a bit…”

He adjusted the angle of the exam table and placed a medical pad under me.

“It’s quite all right. It’s a normal reaction. And we need to move on to the next part of the exam.”

What?! After everything that had just happened, I had to take off my pants for this man?

I covered my face in shame. Not just the pants, but my scarred, postpartum stomach, and the mess down there…

I was too ashamed to look up. I stayed completely still.

He sensed my discomfort and touched my shoulder gently.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s normal for your body to change after childbirth. Being a mother is hard, and I’m going to help you get back to the way you were.”

His comforting words made my bottled-up resentment spill over, and tears began to stream down my face.

It was the first time someone had actually cared about my feelings since the baby arrived.

Dr. Reed looked at me, surprised, and leaned in to wipe away my tears with his fingers.

“Don’t be scared. Trust me.”

His warm palm touched my stomach, massaging it gently without a hint of judgment.

I let go of my hesitation and laid back, nodding.

“No need to be embarrassed. I’ve treated many cases like yours―some even after their second child. They recover even better than before after the procedure.”

He explained everything in a soothing voice, his long fingers trailing down to my waist.

He slid his fingers beneath my jeans, and before I knew it, my legs were lifted, and my pants and underwear were pulled down.

The cool air hit my skin, leaving me completely vulnerable.

My upper body, then my lower body―besides my husband, no one had seen me like this. But here I was, wanting to be seen by him.

Whether from the cold or the shame, I couldn't stop trembling.

Dr. Reed placed his hands on my thighs, the heat of his palms radiating through me.

“Spread your legs a little.”

“What?”

I gasped, my heart drumming against my ribs.

I felt his hands sliding up my inner thighs, the touch light, sending shivers through me. The emptiness deep inside me felt sharper than ever.

It had been a year. I was a young woman, and today, I felt incredibly sensitive.

His warm fingers kept moving upward.

I began to shake, and Dr. Reed noticed.

He held one side of me steady with one hand, his voice low. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt at all.”

It wasn’t the pain I was worried about―it was the heat, the way my body was reacting. I could feel a warmth pooling deep inside me.

His fingers circled the area, not yet venturing inside, but he was driving me crazy. My legs instinctively wanted to clamp together, but his hand kept me blocked.

I couldn’t stop myself from arching my back, and suddenly, Dr. Reed took off his gloves.

He gripped one of my legs and pulled it wide.

“Spread them. I need to see everything clearly.”

There was no room for resistance. His strong hands forced me open, and I felt the cool air penetrate the warmth between my legs.

He stared at me with intensity, a slight curve appearing at the corner of his eyes. Because of the mask, I couldn’t tell if he was smiling, but I knew his expression had changed.

He picked up a bottle from the tray and squeezed something out.

The next second, something hot touched me!

It felt like…