Stiles lay sprawled across the bed, her belly round and heavy, her breasts swollen and dripping. Her nipples leaked constantly now — fat drops of milk rolling down her curves, soaking the sheets beneath her. She looked like every fantasy of fertility and filth Derek ever wanted.

Scott sat at the edge of the mattress, trembling, still in the sticky mess of his orgasm from watching them. He tried to look away, but his eyes dragged back again and again to her swollen chest, to the way Derek’s big hand squeezed a breast, coaxing another stream of milk out.