Page 220 of Yearn
I could've broken down right there.
Could've sobbed into her breast.
But I didn't need to.
Her fingers in my hair said, “I've got you too. You're safe with me like I’m safe with you.”
My thoughts returned to her milk.
Did she know now that this would be my only nourishment every day?
Let the world keep its food and drinks.
From now on, my body would run on her milk instead.
Breakfast.
Lunch.
Dinner.
I groaned sucking harder, swallowing more milk as it streamed. My cock had been softening, but now it was getting harder and preparing for round two.
Faith.
Science.
Worship.
Suckling her breast as my cock continued to rise, I closed my eyes, and for the first time in years, I didn’t think of the past or the future.
I just thought of her.
Just this.
The addiction I'd never want to cure.
The endless merging of our souls that no ex-husband, no society, no god, no logic, could ever separate again.
I was no longer a man with a heart.
I had given mine to Teyonah—to keep, to break, to do with as she pleased.
This was my beautiful, happy life now.
Forever starving.
Forever feeding.
Forever aching.
Forever sated.
Forever consumed.
Forever hers.
