Lex reaches out to brush a damp lock of hair from her cheek. “Take what you need.” Which is real sweet and special and whatever-the-fuck, but he’s holding her fat titty right in front of my face, and my whole world becomes narrowed down to the droplet of milk beading at the tip of her nipple. I lick my lips. This strange, almost primal urge to consume—to preserve—is a new bit of mindfuckery that I lean all the way into. But Lex, somehow sensing this, is the one to guide it to my mouth. “You too, little brother. Take what you need.”
Jesusssss🥵🥵🥵
