The morning sun poured through the Hale mansion, golden and warm, but Derek felt anything but calm.

He sat at the breakfast table with his coffee untouched, his mind replaying last night like a broken film reel—Stiles spread open on her bed, milking her tits, moaning his name while she fingered her pussy. He had cum so hard his desk was still stained.

And now, here she was.

“Good morning, Mr. Hale,” Stiles sang sweetly as she entered the dining room, her heels clicking against the floor. Today she wore a flimsy sundress, pale yellow, the fabric so thin he could see the faint outline of her nipples through it. The neckline plunged scandalously low, her breasts practically spilling free.

Derek stiffened, nearly choking on his coffee.

She leaned over him to place Eli’s bottle on the table, her cleavage dangling inches from his face. “Did you sleep well?” she asked innocently, though her eyes sparkled with mischief.

He cleared his throat, avoiding her gaze. “Y-yeah. Fine.”

But Stiles wasn’t blind. She saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes darted to her tits and then quickly away again. She loved it.

Later, in the nursery, Stiles sat in the rocking chair, blouse unbuttoned all the way, both breasts completely out as Eli fed hungrily. Her nipples were swollen, shiny with milk, her chest heaving with every breath.

Derek walked in to check on them, but froze at the sight.

Stiles looked up at him, all innocent. “Oh… sorry, Mr. Hale. You don’t mind, do you? I mean, this is natural.” She gave a little giggle, shifting so her other breast jiggled free, milk dripping down her skin.

Derek’s cock twitched painfully in his trousers. He could barely swallow. “I… n-no, of course not.”

Eli suckled noisily, and Stiles moaned softly as if the baby’s mouth gave her pleasure. “Mmm… he’s such a hungry boy. Loves sucking his nanny’s tits.” She smirked faintly before catching herself, feigning innocence again. “Ah—sorry, that sounded bad. I just mean… he’s a good eater.”

Derek gripped the edge of the crib until his knuckles whitened.

When Eli finally finished, Stiles lifted him to burp—but she didn’t bother to cover herself. Her tits remained bare, swaying as she patted Eli’s back. And when Derek stepped forward to help, his hand brushed against the side of her breast again.

She gasped softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Ohhh…”

Derek yanked his hand back instantly, flustered. “I—I didn’t mean—”

Stiles smiled sweetly, her tone dripping with feigned innocence. “It’s okay, Mr. Hale. I know you wouldn’t touch me like that… not on purpose.” Her eyes flickered down, catching the bulge straining in his trousers. She licked her lips before looking away, rocking Eli gently.

That evening, Sara was once again buried in her phone, sipping wine and scrolling through shopping apps, completely oblivious.

Stiles moved around the kitchen in another scandalous outfit—a tiny crop top that barely covered her breasts and shorts so small her ass cheeks peeked out. She bent to take something from the lower cabinet, and her round ass pointed directly at Derek, who sat at the table pretending to read emails.

His eyes betrayed him, glued to the curve of her thighs, the flash of lacy panties, the smooth line of her back.

“Oops,” Stiles said softly as she dropped a spoon, bending slowly to pick it up. Her ass wiggled just enough, her shorts riding higher. She looked back over her shoulder, catching him staring. “Everything okay, Mr. Hale?”

Derek tore his eyes away, coughing into his fist. “Y-yeah. Fine.”

Sara didn’t even notice, too busy taking a selfie.

Stiles smirked faintly, turning back to the stove. Her heart raced with excitement. She was pushing him closer and closer to breaking.

And she couldn’t wait.