She's leaning against my chest and my hands are still folded around her even though we're long done with why we came here in the first place. The warm water is still falling on us, and even though sleep is right around the corner, I can't bear to speak up first and end this moment.

She doesn't stop me from touching her. I can feel she's completely relaxed at this moment; her breathing is steady and her body almost slack apart from the fact that she's standing on her own two feet still. Her eyes are closed, her long lashes resting on her cheeks as she enjoys the warm water. And I think she enjoys my touch too.

She's fucking glorious. There is no other way to describe it. From the little droplets on her forehead, cheeks, and chin, to her lush, soft body, she is fucking gorgeous. The whole night, she's been dragging me through a whirlwind -fuck that, hurricane- of emotions by just being there. And ever since we shared that shower when we came home, the need to touch her has become unbearable. I can't not touch her.

It's been eighteen days, and I never in my life thought that I could feel this explosive and even obsessed after just two-and-a-half weeks. It's not just how I found her in the position that I did and how I helped her while she gave birth to Dais, although that was the reason why I was so drawn to her in the beginning.

Now, it's her. I'm drawn to her like a moth to a flame. It's just her being her broken, beautiful, smart, shy self that makes me question every idea I had about life before her. I thought I had a somewhat clear vision of what my future would look like but now that I have her in my life, everything has changed.

I'm so in love with this girl, nine out of ten times I have no fucking clue what the hell I'm supposed to do with all the feelings that consume me. I want to protect her, shield her from anyone and everything, but at the same time, I want to teach her how to be strong and kick someone's ass so she'll never have to give in to anyone again.

I want to take care of her and her daughter, make sure they will never have to ask for or miss a damn thing in life, but I also want her to be independent because I know she must be craving that after a life based on dependence. On forced dependence.

I want to touch her, devour her even. I want to let her feel how fucking good sex can be if you want it; when you fucking crave the person you're with so much it hurts. But I know it will take years for her to even think about shit like that. She's recovering, and she needs time. She needs so much time to heal, if she'll even completely heal at all.

I want -I grant- her the opportunity to find out who she is and what she wants in life. She needs to form an idea for her future and what she wants in it, based on herself and her daughter, not on me. It's her time now, and she needs to come first. And second and third. Along with Daisy.

But everything considered -from her mental health to the punishment of that scum that broke her like this to what she'll want for her future- I'm still selfish. I want her because I'm that self-righteous bastard that thinks I am what she needs. Fuck, I know that I am what she needs because I love her and I want what's best for her. I want the fucking world for her and Daisy, and preferably a world with me in it.

She takes a deep breath and thereby slightly pushes her chest forward. I was aware of how my hands are still folded around her breasts, but now that she presses against my palms, it itches to kneed and stroke her. She's driving me crazy without knowing it, without even intending it, and it's equally exciting as nerve-wracking.

And controlling myself at this moment is one of the hardest things I've ever done. I've given up on hiding the evidence of what she's doing to me; it's a lost cause anyway. I'm firmly pressed against her lower back, permanently hard and rhythmically throbbing, and constantly fighting against ideas of her and me in this very shower that would probably scare her to the bone.

"This is nice," she mumbles, and for a split second, I pretend that what she's saying is an answer to my thoughts.

"Yeah?" I ask on auto-pilot. I'm guarded as fuck all of the sudden, not even daring to breathe because I don't want her to move and end this.

I feel her nod; her wet hair that sticks to my chest moves slightly. And then she stops leaning against me. I want to pull her back, but I don't. I don't because I won't ever do the opposite of what she wants. So, I slowly drop my hands and let go of the two reasons I'm close to insanity.

For a short moment, she just stands in front of me. She lifts her hands to her hair and slides them over the strands that fall down her back, her face resting directly in the water stream while she shuts her eyes closed.

These are the moments I'm fucking thankful for my giraffe-ass height. Because I'm so much taller than she is, I have the perfect view of her face, and therefore I'm witnessing these personal habits of hers from up close.

I watch how she blows out a long, heavy breath, and then slowly turns around so she's facing me with her eyes still tightly shut. And although I try not to, my gaze does travel south for just a moment to take her in.

Her skin is creamy but pale, and I notice straight away how she has a birthmark right in the center of her sternum, in between her breasts. It's small but somehow it stands out against her skin with its oval shape. I hadn't noticed it before, and it's only making it more clear that I'm now looking at her in an entirely different light. A lustful light.

I don't know shit about childbirth and the aftermath it causes on a women's body, but I do know that her body looks incredible. She looks soft, ripe even in a way. There are very light lines that serve as evidence of Daisy being inside her just underneath her belly button, and if I could I would kneel to kiss them, fuck knows why.

She's wearing simple, black panties, but the line of her hips brings my thoughts back to that first time I saw her in those leggings. One look at her now only determines what I already knew; they were fitting her like a fucking glove.

And then her breasts. If I didn't have such huge respect for her and how she feeds Daisy with them every single day, I would call them A-class tits. They obviously aren't as voluptuous as moments ago because I took care of that for her, but they are awesome still. Perky, not too big, and with the perfect sized, dark pink nipples that top them off like cherries.

The observations run through my head in just a nano-second, but when my eyes find her face, I can tell she caught me staring at her. She's nervously biting her lip, her pupils big and her arms just seconds away from shielding herself.

"Don't," I mumble before she can cover herself, and I move my hands to her waist before pulling her against me. "I'm sorry. I won't look anymore."

A small, nervous giggle leaves her lips, her breath fanning against my chest as her nose is pressed against my sternum. "My feelings confuse me."

I nod my head, swallowing the words 'welcome to the club', and instead ask, "Why?" because I'm not going to shut her down now that she wants to talk. From the beginning, I've been soaking up every information she gives me, and right now, her feelings are one of the biggest mysteries to me still. I have no idea what's going on in her head except for the struggles regarding what happened to her. But I want to know more.

She takes another deep breath, her hands folding in front of her and against my chest. "I feel things that I don't think I should feel and it scares me."

Fuck. Is she talking about her feelings for me? She told me she loves me, but does she now think she shouldn't? I clear my throat, my arms tightening a little more around her waist, my hands flat on her back. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

For a moment she stays silent, but then she shakes her head. "I'll talk to Alice about it first."

I ignore the stab I feel in my chest that's caused by her rejection and nod my head. I should be happy that she trusts Alice, but I can't help but feel hurt by how she chooses that trust over her trust in me.

But this isn't about me, so I shake off the feeling and bow my head, pressing my lips onto her hair.

We stand like that for a short moment, before I feel how she slowly moves out of my embrace. "Is it okay if I go to bed? Daisy will wake in a few hours and I'm a little tired." Her cheeks are pink, and I hope that it's because of the warm water and not because she feels onerous.

"Of course," I answer, dropping my arms to my sides. "I'll be there in a few."

For a short moment, she eyes me curiously, no doubt because she expected me to follow her lead. Her eyes flicker down my form or maybe I imagine it, but right after she nods her head. "Okay."

I'm not even doubting that she knows why I need a couple of minutes more. Even while she just stood against me, I stayed hard. I've been trying to minimize jerking as much as I can because the thoughts that come to mind when I do it all involve her, but I have to now. I won't be able to sleep with a raging hard-on, much like she couldn't sleep because she was feeling full.

I follow her with my eyes as she steps around me to leave the shower before grabbing a towel from the shelf. She first towels her hair, and when it's not overly wet anymore, she wraps the towel around her. It's crazy how it covers her up until her knees, while I can only wrap it around my hips. That's probably my favorite thing about her; she is so small compared to me.

Without saying anything, she gives me a small smile before she walks out of the bathroom. The moment I hear the door close, I lean forward so my head hits the tiles. I blow out a long breath, trying but failing to steady my heartbeat.

I'm fucking insane for her.

I close my eyes and sigh, moving my right hand into my soaked boxer briefs. Even though the material is soft, my cock is begging to be freed, so after stroking out the tension, I pull the band down so I have room to work with.

The moment I fold my hand around my shaft, my knees wobble, and I mentally roll my eyes at my desperate state. I've never reacted like this to my own touch, yet here I am; fucking eager for my own hand to move while I think about the woman that's been my obsession ever since I found her.

I slowly pump, moving my hand to my tip. I roll my thumb over the head, and I can't stop the grunt in my chest at the feeling. With my forehead still pressed against the tiles and my eyes tightly shut, I start to pump myself while my mind wanders to her.

Her blonde, soaked hair stuck against my chest. Her eyes fluttered closed because of my touch. Her tits pressed against my palm and her tight nipples that eventually spilled the milk that was bothering her.

"Fuck," I grit through my teeth as a shock shoots through my spine. I would spend hours devouring her tits, at this point, I don't even care that they also provide feedings for her daughter.

Hell, if there was only a small change that she would let me taste her, all of her, I would take it in a heartbeat. The thought of her hard, ripe nipple in my mouth, her hands in my hair as I suck on her, it's rapidly becoming a fantasy that I never knew I had.

I move my hand a little faster, my free hand cupping my balls. I feel myself throb, and my breath hitches, and my heart jerks. Would it be just as good for her as I think it will be for me?

I wonder if she's ever had an orgasm, although I'm almost one hundred percent sure she hasn't. I could make her come for the first time. Fuck, I would make her cum by just using my tongue and mouth on her. I would take hours, exploring every small inch of her body so I know her spots, and I would enjoy every fucking second of it as if it were my last on earth.

I would kiss her body just like I kiss her at night. Those lazy, soft kisses that last for hours. Those kisses that she initiates more and more, almost as if she's enjoying the way I react to her when she surprises me by being just a little more assertive.

I would make her blush. Not just her cheeks, but every part of her. I would kiss that little oval birthmark, run my tongue over it so I could properly feel the goosebumps that are caused by my actions. And when I've tasted every part of her torso, including the milk that's not reserved for me, I would kiss my way south.

I gasp while I move my hand up and down faster, my other hand rolling my balls in my palm. It feels fucking good; I don't think it ever felt as good as it does now.

I can almost taste her on my tongue, that's how fucking real the image of her in my head is. She's laying on my bed, her arms now stretched above her while she focuses on my mouth. I dip my tongue in her belly button before kissing the light lines underneath just like I wanted moments ago, and she would arch her back in anticipation of what's to come.

And then, when my head would finally be buried in between her legs, she would surrender. She would let every guard down, and she would spread her legs and just let me do what I've been craving for days now.

I would nuzzle my nose through the soft hairs I know she has, and I would savor the smell of her. I would kiss her, tease her just to ease into it, and she would grasp my hair because she has no idea what's happening to her.

And then, I would lick her. I would suck on her to taste every flavor, and I would lick her until she's a panting, squirming mess.

I feel the familiar tingle in my lower back, and I also feel my balls tighten. I run my thumb over my tip again, this time with a little more pressure before returning the consistent, rough stroke. And then, with one firm squeeze on my balls, I feel the relief.

With her scent in my nostrils, her soft skin underneath my palms, and the imagination of her taste on my tongue, I come. I shoot against the tiles, biting my lip so I won't make any sounds. I don't dare to open my eyes because I'm not ready to leave the sight of her in my bed, her back arched as my mouth pleasures her most sensitive spot.

She's got me. She owns me.

Her squirming out of my arms wakes me from what feels like a two-minute sleep. I try to pull her back against me, but a second later Daisy's cries fill my ears, and I reluctantly let go as I realize that I have to share her with her daughter.

"I'll be right back," Jo whispers, and I hum in response, not ready to open my eyes.

I feel how the bed lifts slightly when she steps out, and as I keep my eyes shut, I follow the sounds. First, I hear the door open, and then I hear her footsteps in the hallway before she opens the door of Daisy's room. It takes just a second before I hear her familiar, sweet voice that she only uses when she's talking to Dais.

"Hello, baby. Are you hungry? Did you have a nice sleep?"

I can't stop the smile from breaking through, and I decide to open one eye so I can see them walk in. There is light peeking through the crack of the blinds, which tells me it's not night anymore even though it still feels like three in the morning.

The footsteps in the hallway come closer, and a moment later I see them appear. Jo is holding Dais against her chest, her hair in a messy bun on top of her head and her eyes still sleepy. Daisy's not crying anymore; her cheek lays against Jo's chest, and she's taking in her surroundings while she lifts her hand, no doubt to put her two fingers in her mouth.

I pull back the covers and watch how Jo steps in. When she's laying on her side with Daisy in front of her, I scoot closer and cover them again, making sure they are tucked in nicely. I watch how Daisy starts to squirm, her mouth already searching as Jo lifts her shirt. The moment she's bared her breast, Daisy finds her nipple with ease and she eagerly starts to suck.

Her small fists lift and press themselves in Jo's beast, her little body trying to move closer as I hear her gulp and sigh. And while the sight of Jo's breasts made me rock hard just hours ago, I now feel a weird type of emotions rush through me.

"She's missed you," I mumble. I know she has since she had two bottles last night. This is a moment between Daisy and Jo, and only now do I realize how much both of them enjoy it.

"I missed her too," Jo mumbles, her hand sliding over Daisy's head before she looks at me. "I love moments like these."

I drop my arm over her and scoot closer so Daisy's back is pressed against my chest. "Me too. I love seeing you two like this. In my bed."

Jo's cheeks flush a little, her eyes a little brighter than moments before. Her eyes follow me as I lean down and press a kiss on Daisy's head, in between the fingers that are still resting on Daisy's hair. Jo's smile turns brighter at the action, and when I pull back, she lifts her hand to stroke my cheek. "I love the way you look at us." She sighs, her eyes intently following her finger that traces my cheekbone. "I love how you look at me."

"I love looking at you." I grin. I've turned into a huge shithead and my friends would have my ass for this.

Jo giggles, and just as she opens her mouth to respond, my phone starts to buzz on my nightstand. It's not once, but a few times, the pauses in between just short enough to tell me it's not an incoming call.

I sigh and give Jo an apologetic look to which she nods, and then I turn around so I can grab my phone. After unlocking it, I notice the amount of texts right away. I see Mercy's name, as well as Felix's and mum's.

My eyes quickly scan the time which reads a little after ten. "Why the hell are they all up this early?" I mumble, more to myself than to Jo, but nevertheless, I feel her scoot a little closer to see what I'm talking about.

"What's wrong?" she whispers, and I shrug in response while I open the text that came in last. It's from Mercy, and it's a link with one sentence from her. You have to see this, it reads.

I click on the link, and it directs me to an article in The Sun. For a very short moment, I'm confused as fuck, because what the hell can be so important to send me on January 1st at ten in the morning? But then I read the title, and it's as if a wave of nausea takes over my blissful state in a nano-second.

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