SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant

The mansion had gone quiet by the time Trafalgar finally went to bed.

Aaron was sleeping in the room beside Mayla’s, with a maid and one of the household healers nearby in case anything happened during the night. Trafalgar had decided to sleep alone for once, expecting nothing more complicated than several uninterrupted hours of rest.

A soft knock came sometime later.

Mayla entered before he could answer properly.

Trafalgar sat up against the headboard and watched her close the door. Something in her expression was wrong—not fear exactly, but discomfort perhaps, that had clearly been sitting in her head for longer than tonight.

”Come here. What’s bothering you?”

Mayla crossed the room slowly and sat on the edge of the bed.

”I don’t know if this is stupid.”

”If it’s bothering you enough to come here in the middle of the night, so… it probably isn’t.”

She looked down at her hands.

”Do you still find me attractive?”

Trafalgar stared at her for a moment.

”Where did that come from?”

Mayla took a breath before answering.

”My body changed after Aaron. I know that’s normal, but I notice it every time I look at myself. My face feels a little rounder, my waist isn’t exactly how it was before, and sometimes I feel... chubby.”

Trafalgar’s brows pulled together.

”Mayla, you’ve gained what, two kilos? Maybe.”

”That’s not really the point.”

Trafalgar reached for her hand. ”I’m telling you what I see. You’re looking at every tiny change because it’s your body and you remember exactly how it was before. I’m looking at you and seeing the same woman I’ve always thought was beautiful.”

Mayla’s breath hitched. She wanted to believe him, God, she did, but the doubt gnawed at her like a persistent itch. She’d seen the gazes flicking over her new curves with barely concealed judgment.

Even her own reflection sometimes felt like a stranger’s—a body she didn’t recognize anymore.

”You really haven’t noticed?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Trafalgar exhaled, a quiet chuckle escaping him as he shifted closer, his knee brushing against hers. ”Of course I’ve noticed changes. You carried our son.” he said, his free hand lifting to brush a strand of hair from her face. ”But none of them made you less attractive to me. Not even slightly.”

Her eyes softened, though the uncertainty had not completely disappeared.

Trafalgar moved closer.

”You were beautiful when you were too thin,” he continued, his voice dipping lower. ”Because nobody was taking care of you. You were beautiful when you became healthier. You were beautiful while carrying Aaron. And you’re stunning now.” His fingers trailed down her arm, slow and deliberate, leaving goosebumps in their wake. ”Your body changing doesn’t suddenly make you someone else.”

Mayla’s throat moved as she swallowed.

She wanted to argue, to insist that men always wanted women who looked a certain way; svelte, delicate, untouched by time or childbirth.

But the way Trafalgar looked at her now, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, made her chest burn.

”So you don’t wish I looked like before?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

His answer was immediate.

”No.” Trafalgar shook his head. ”I want you. The version sitting in front of me.”

That finally broke through whatever she had been holding onto.

Mayla leaned forward, her lips crashing into his with a desperation she hadn’t known she was capable of.

Trafalgar met her halfway, his hands sliding up to cradle her face, his thumbs brushing over her cheekbones as if she were something precious.

The kiss was slow at first, tender in a way that made her heart race. But as his tongue teased the seam of her lips, demanding entry.

Trafalgar’s hands sliding down to grip her waist, pulling her closer until she was straddling his lap. Mayla gasped as she felt the hard ridge of his cock pressing against her through the thin fabric of her nightgown.

She missed this, the way he made her feel desired.

His fingers tangled in her hair, tilting her head back to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth slowly.

Mayla moaned, her hips rolling instinctively against him, the friction making her wetter by the second.

Trafalgar broke the kiss, his breath hot against her lips. ”You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting…”

Mayla’s fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, her movements frantic. She needed to feel him.

Trafalgar helped her, shrugging out of the fabric with a shake of his shoulders, leaving his chest bare and tempting.

Mayla’s hands roamed over him, tracing the hard planes of his muscles, the dusting of dark hair that led down to the waistband of his pants.

She could feel his cock twitching against her, begging for attention, and she wasn’t about to ignore it.

Trafalgar’s hands slid down to the hem of her nightgown, pushing it up slowly, revealing the soft, round curves of her body.

His gaze darkened as he took her in—her full breasts, the slight swell of her stomach, the way her hips flared out where they used to be nonexistent.

”You’re perfect,” he said his hands cupping her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples until they were hard and aching. Mayla gasped, her back arching into his touch, her pussy clenching with need.

Trafalgar didn’t waste any time. He lifted her easily, carrying her to the bed and laying her down with a gentleness that belied the hunger in his eyes.

Mayla watched as he stripped off his pants, his cock springing free. She bit her lip as he crawled over her, his body pressing her into the mattress.

His mouth found hers again, this time with more urgency, his hands roaming over her body as if he were memorizing every inch of her. Mayla wrapped her legs around his waist, her nails digging into his back as she arched up against him.

Trafalgar broke the kiss just long enough to murmur.

”I really missed this…” before his lips trailed down her neck, his teeth grazing her collarbone.