The Billionaire's Milkmaid #5 (BBW Lactation Erotic Romance)

excessica publishing

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 13,000
0 Ratings (0.0)

...the final episode in The Billionaire's Milkmaid series...

A PROPOSAL FROM A MAN ON THE EDGE OF LIFE

Jessica couldn't believe her ears when Antonio proposed to her – and then upped the ante. Two men? She could have both? After her first threesome with James and Antonio, she came to see that it was possible – with a future that exceeded her wildest dreams.

Until Antonio nearly died.

A WOMAN CAUGHT BETWEEN LOVING TWO MEN

Brought back to life as she and James performed CPR, Antonio perched on the line between life and death as a medical team rushed in to find the naked threesome. Treated by Antonio's doctor like some sort of pharmaceutical drug good only when Antonio needed it, Jessica shocks the medical staff who worked hard to save Antonio's life by breastfeeding him on the spot – and then rescinding her marriage proposal acceptance, reclaiming her sense of self. James' attentions increased, making it harder to choose.

Did she really need to?

CAN SHE HAVE BOTH, OR IS IT TOO LATE?

With Antonio on the brink of death and her milk ever more precious – for him, and for humanity – it's a race against time to see how she can meet the needs of two men, take care of her daughter, and oh, yeah – save the world.

One drop at a time.

This episode concludes The Billionaire's Milkmaid series. Readers who have been with Jessica, Antonio, James, Sofia, Anne, and June have seen Jess go back to work as an abandoned wife and struggling working mother to a billionaire's mistress to a kidnapping victim – and so much more. From prods to Sybians to a rotating restaurant glittering high above Manhattan, enjoy the conclusion as Jessica discovers she can't have it all – but she can have way, way more than she ever dreamed.

The Billionaire's Milkmaid #5 (BBW Lactation Erotic Romance)
0 Ratings (0.0)

The Billionaire's Milkmaid #5 (BBW Lactation Erotic Romance)

excessica publishing

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 13,000
0 Ratings (0.0)
In Cart
In Wish List
Available formats
ePub
Mobi
PDF
Excerpt

He had no pulse. No heartbeat. James began chest compressions and barked orders to Jessica as if they were underwater, his words coming through to her in slow motion.

"Breathe for him." She felt like she was trapped in a vat of taffy, struggling to move inch by inch to reach Antonio's head. As her lips closed over his she could feel how slack he was, how cold he was becoming, and the frantic vibrations of James' desperate pushes to jump start his heart made her eyes well up with tears.

One. She breathed as much air as she could into him, watching his chest rise. Whoosh. It all came back out.

Two. Again, she breathed life into him, hoping against hope this would make a difference.

"Damn you, Antonio!" James cried out, slamming his fist against the man's chest. His body convulsed and he began to choke, then fizzled out.

Hope! There was hope! She exchanged a panicked look with James, who pounded Antonio's chest again as she she poured as much air into him as possible. And then...the unimaginable.

His eyes fluttered open as as doctor rushed into the room, screaming to a group of nurses behind him, and Antonio's eyes lasered in on hers. "Jessy," he rasped.

And then collapsed again. The doctor pulled a defibrillator and shouted out numbers to the nurses, who covered the paddles with gel as James pulled her back, away from the madness. He threw a blanket on her and she realized there they stood, completely naked, Antonio nude as well. What must everyone think? Their threesome was revealed and vulnerable to the world.

Who cared? Antonio fought for his life before her, the man who had just proposed to her. Proposed! Her love for him and for James could be quenched in one very unconventional arrangement, a marriage to a billionaire that would set her and Sofia for life, and then a marriage for something much more to James, who tugged at her heart in such a different way. James threw on his pants and stood watching the medical professionals intently, hands on hips, chest heaving with exertion, panic and the adrenaline rush of working so hard to save Antonio. A thin sheen of sweat covered them both and she felt a chill in spite of the blanket thrown about her.

The chill of fear. Of terror. Of horror and of loss. If Antonio died right here, right now, after the lovemaking session of her life, a completeness of three that she never fathomed possible, then what?

"We have a beat!" someone shouted. Bah-DUM. Bah-DUM. Somewhere, a monitor tracked a slow, erratic heartbeat that came from Antonio's muscular chest, the sound like manna from heaven on Jessica's ears. James did a fist-pump into the air and turned away, letting the medical professionals do their work in bringing Antonio back to life, infusing him with medications and stabilizing him.

"What happened?" the European doctor demanded of her, simultaneously grilling her and barking orders to the people working on her beloved.

"We were making love – "

"That's obvious," he snapped. "I meant what happened to Antonio?" His tone drew James' attention; he turned and faced the doctor.

"He just let out the air in his lungs and went unconscious."

"No blow to the head? Do I need to run a toxicology screen?"

James reddened. "Are you accusing us of harming him?"

"I am only asking questions to ascertain what happened."

"And I'm giving you answers." Their faces were inches from each other, James towering over the little Hungarian man, who looked like granite – unbreakable. One of the nurses called out a number and the doctor walked swiftly to Antonio, as if nothing had happened with James.

"Jess," Antonio moaned. She ran to his side, unable to reach him through the workers.

"I'm here, my love," she answered.

The doctor shook his head; "Not now," he mouthed.

"Rest and recover," she said in the most soothing voice possible.

"You'll marry me?" Antonio gasped. The room went still for a split second, then the nurses and doctors resumed quickly.

"Of course," she nearly shouted. A wisp of a smile played on Antonio's lips.

"Now go," the doctor ordered. "Let us make sure you can keep that promise."

Somehow, James had the common sense to find Jessica's clothes and the rest of his, helping to usher her into a different room so both could dress. In spite of the dire circumstances, she found herself completely captivated by the sight of his flesh, how carved, how utterly perfect his bare skin appeared. Like Channing Tatum but...smarter. Sharper. A blend of a special ops soldier with a male stripper's zeal. If only...

How could she think like this? Slipping into her wrinkled clothes, she compared her soft swells with James's hard, flat muscle. He was eyeing her, too -- it was obvious, and after a minute of trying to hide it he just flatly started staring, a small smile tilting one corner of his mouth up.

"We're slightly evil, aren't we." It was a declaration. Not a question. Boldly, she stared straight into eyes that melted her insides. She had to appear strong, though; Antonio was dying in the next room, he'd just proposed, and if he died before she could marry him, then...would she still get James? Ever?

Anne and her Sybian were looking better and better as she heard alarms go off in the next room. Whatever thought James had, and was about to say to her, he interrupted with a sprint next door.

Shaking the locked doorknob, he pounded furiously. "What's going on?" Bang, bang, bang.

"Leave us be. But send in Jessica," the doctor shouted. Wild-eyed and frenzied, James turned to her, looked at her breasts, then gave her his eyes once more.

"I see," she murmured. "I'm a walking chemo factory."

A pained expression floated over his face, rendering his jaw tight and eyes on fire. "You're far, far more than that, and you know it." He was calling her out, not letting her sink into self pity or her own brand of self-loathing. She was more than that, and she knew it -- Antonio didn't need to sleep with her. Make her his companion. Declare love for her.

Marry her.

He did it because she was special. If all he needed was her milk, he could have set this up as a pure business transaction, money for ounces. Instead, he'd turned it into a deeply personal affair, one with passion and romance and sex and tangled limbs and oh, so much more than a check for a bottle of her breast milk.

As the doctor hurried her in the room, James craned to see what was going on.

Slam. The doctor wasn't worried about hiding how he felt about James.

Or her.

"Remove your shirt and use this," he said, handing her an Isis hand pump.

"What's this?"

He looked at her like she was the stupidest girl on Teen Mom. "It's a hand pump. To pump milk. We need to give it to him."

"I've never used one like this," she replied nervously. "Only the motorized pumps."

"We don't have the luxury of having one of those on hand," he answered, bitter and mean, not making eye contact. Now she felt like a pharmaceutical cow, even more so than when she'd been strapped to a stainless steel table and literally tortured into producing for DTS and Jim.

"Then get one," she answered, voice edged with steel. That got the doctor's attention, his hand stopping as he scrawled notes, his entire body freezing with her words. Funny how the room went still, the only sound the pneumatic wheeze of medical machines, a beep here and there, and the noise of everyone inhaling and exhaling, trying to control their breath as they watched, eyes wide.

Showdown.

"We do not have time for this," he insisted, face turning red. His large, splayed nose had burst capillaries at the nostrils, deep pores, and a large bump on one side. Not a wart or a mole – just a bump. His eyes told her he thought she was dog shit. She didn't care – who had the power here, really?

"We do not have time for this?" she said, her voice carrying the lightest of mocking accents. "Then if we don't have time to get a motorized pump, and we don't have time for me to fumble like a fool learning how to use that pathetic thing – " she derisively swatted at the hand pump, "there is only one solution."

Jaunty now, and incredibly pissed, she walked over to Antonio's side, forcing an orderly to move, her hands on his hard muscle transmitting some sort of message that actually got him to get the fuck out of the way. She heard a muffled click, a distant sound her brain registered, and as she turned to face Antonio she saw that James had quietly infiltrated the room, his index finger pressed to his mouth.

Oh, she wasn't telling anyone.

More to watch, then.

She slipped out of her top, the very top she'd just put on in a hurry, trying to cover and be humble. Ah, fuck being modest – let them all stare. Who were they to tell her what to do, who to touch, how to be? She'd just come down from the highest sexual high of her life, been proposed to by a billionaire, and now she was going to save him.

Or, at least, give him something he needed.

"What are you doing, Ms...." The doctor clearly had forgotten her name. Maybe he never knew it in the first place.

"Cow. Ms. Cow. Bovina Cow to you." Unhooking her bra, she threw it at James, as if this were a sick sort of striptease. He caught it with one rigid index finger, holding it across his face, a huge grin glimmering through the throng of gawkers.

Completely topless, she leaned down to Antonio's mouth and let her nipple dangle, willing his lips find it. A rooting instinct still surprisingly present in a man of his age, his lips closed over it, her full breasts tingling as letdown quickly emerged and she heard the steady gulp she had come to expect.

"You can't! This is highly unsanti -- " Sputtering, the doctor touched her hip as if to move her away.

In a flash, James was on him, arms holding his. "Don't stop her. This is the best medicine for Antonio, and you know it." The look on James's face was all-consuming, pulling her out of her fury, her indignation, the tunnel vision she developed when she decided to just act, to be, to follow her impulses because fuck the world, right?

Read more