Nursing the Alpha

It started with a contract.
I’d express my milk for what I thought was a family in need.
No names. No questions. No strings.
Just a big check.

Then I found out the truth.
The man buying my milk isn’t a stranger.
He’s someone I know.
Someone who’s been doing things to me without my knowledge.
And he doesn’t just want my milk.
He wants all of me.