Page 38 of Devour

“Then it’s time to find a new church.”

“Maybe,” I muttered. Asher’s eyebrows flew so high, I felt the need to elaborate. “I’ve been considering it. Heavily. Especially after recent events.”

“I think you should more than consider it,” Asher emphasized, “because hand to god, you will end up with that guy. We all know it.”

With? Not likely. In? Absolutely. Not even in an enjoyable manner, either. At this rate, Rhory would definitely get the chance to eat me.

“And who will you end up with?” I asked, successfully returning the favor of getting Asher to blush.

“Who knows?” He shrugged.

“I’ve never seen you this way with anyone. It makes me happy.”

“Yeah, well.” Asher reclined and let out a long sigh before smiling at me finally. “He makes me really happy.”

“Good. If it ever gets serious enough that you need an officiant, I would be happy to provide non-denominational services.”

Rhory slid into the booth beside me without warning, smirking from apparent eavesdropping. Owen returned soon after and we went on to have a pleasant dinner as friends.

* * *

RHORY

Putting this into context: know how some couples, either due to the comfort of familiarity or pure laziness, fell into routines? Like Friday date night, having their side of the bed, and cycling through the same three positions ninety percent of the time they had sex. Well, the chomp and hump became the new gold standard around here. Not that Eli and I were a couple. Nope. Not a couple. Being a couple would imply a relationship and monogamy and… none of that would be happening between us.

Anyway, back to the chomp and hump. Amid my hunger crisis, I discovered that a satisfying feed, along with a few snacking sessions, could keep me filled for an extended period. So long as we got in a chomp and hump every six to eight days, everything would be hunky dory around here. Hubs and I could even default to pseudo-domestic bliss.

Hubby was also very much aware (and a bit smug, might I add) that he could… uh… bring me to climax like that when no one else could. Yeah, I previously said it wasn’t an orgasm. Still sticking to that story. Whatever it was, it felt pleasurable, and had a distinct build and release, but still wasn’t an orgasm in the sexual sense. I wasn’t creaming my pants after and didn’t need to do the humping part for it to happen, but the additional stimulation always helped move it along.

In order to not give the impression that I used hubby just to get off, I would like to state something for the record. He absolutely benefited from a good chomp and hump—more than he admitted to me, or even to himself. The guy couldn’t have sex. And even if he didn’t say it, or even think it, he got frustrated when too much time passed between feeds. And yeah, even if it wasn’t sex or a sexual release, he only had one outlet for said frustration. Hubby absolutely instigated some chomp and humps, and it always turned his dial back to zero. Afterwards, he went back to the calm and stoic hubby I knew so well instead of cranky and horny.

Yeah, I said horny. He wouldn’t admit that to me, either, but he would get horny then think about fucking me. And he thought about it a lot. Often enough that even now, how someone with his libido only could be outmatched by his discipline impressed me.

The other unexpected benefit of a good chomp and hump meant gaining the ability to be around hubby for extended periods without reverting to a feral snack demon. Never ever would I turn down free snacks (heh) but I also enjoyed simply being able to chill out at his place. We could do extremely normal activities like make dinner or binge-watch a television series together. And hubs even let me cuddle up with him on the couch now so long as I kept the interaction rated PG. Still, cuddles were nice, and I also got an itty-bitty bit fuller from those, too. Just a smidge. Like maybe one cube of cheese fuller. Still a nice treat if you enjoyed cheese.

And I enjoyed Eli. I’d always heard that if two people spent too much time together, they would get on each other’s nerves. I said “heard” since aside from Eli, I didn’t spend significant time with anyone, and I never had.

After finishing dinner with Ash and Owen, I went back to Eli’s rental with him. I liked to tell myself we mostly hung out so late, not because he worried his neighbors would see me coming and going, but because he’d always been a night owl and I didn’t need to sleep much.

Tonight, he had me over solely for company, which consisted of watching a movie in his room. Yeah, he let me into his bedroom and into his bed now. We even had a few sleepovers because, yet again, even if he wouldn’t admit to liking having me next to him in the bed while he slept, he did. Couldn’t blame the guy for being lonely.

While hubs still watched the screen, I leaned over and clicked my teeth together at him. I could hear him thinking about it and debating with himself, which remained hilarious to me since we both knew what the outcome would be. Why even waste the time?

Eli pulled me closer to him while simultaneously sinking further down onto the mattress. I crawled across him as fast as inhumanely possible until I got myself right on top of him, slatting our legs while I hovered. When I whipped my head forward for that first delicious taste, I caused an immediate knee-jerk reaction from him. No, really. Hubby had gotten so used to shoving a thigh or hip between my legs for me to use that he moved without even thinking about it. Of course, I’d love another opportunity to thrust my hips into his and feel him getting harder, but that always got a bit too sinful. Sigh. When I clicked my teeth at him again, I got a mental green light to go ahead. My lips brushed across the skin of his neck, right down to his collarbone where I could sink my teeth in.

“Over the clothes,” Eli quickly reminded me.

Oops. Almost missed. Even if hubs had a high pain tolerance (and I’d say his was about average, maybe only slightly higher) I actually didn’t want to hurt him. Additionally, I couldn’t be leaving bite marks all over him for everyone to see. He’d gotten quite a few lectures at work already about my continued presence and, most recently, a complaint from a parishioner. Pretty sure all those arguments he made about us being only friends would fall on deaf ears if anyone from his church found out. Best not to leave any evidence.

“And that’s why I said over the clothes.”

That comment was almost enough to get me to pause. Almost. Because I sure as shit knew I didn’t say any of that aloud. Like I even could with a literal mouthful.

And… hubs got a very lewd thought in response to the word “mouthful.” But this was supposed to be one-way communication. He shouldn’t even know what I thought, never mind tune in enough to form fitting responses. No time to worry about that now. I had a burning hunger to quell.

How could life be a desert and him my oasis? My only source of relief, stumbled upon by chance. Even if I provided him with some solace, he’d never truly grasp the contrast of unbearable emptiness and quenching pleasure filling me only in his presence. He’d been more right than he could ever realize when he said I’d hang off him all day if he let me.

You would think the very best part of a chomp and hump would be the hump, since everyone got so worked up from it that relief filled me even faster. Nah. Maybe the chomp, since that satisfied an urge that I couldn’t fulfill most times. I didn’t make a habit of hurting people needlessly, and I would prefer not being so overcome I ate someone unintentionally.

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