The Taste of Need

In the nursery, with Mavie asleep in her crib, Avery's hand slides up Nyra's robe, her thumb brushing the damp spot where milk has soaked through. 'I need to taste you,' she whispers, her voice raw, and Nyra's breath catches as she cups her own breast, offering it. Avery's mouth finds her, warm and insistent, and Nyra's head falls back as the first pull of milk floods Avery's tongue. The baby stirs but doesn't wake, and Nyra's fingers tangle in Avery's silver hair, holding her close as the ache between them finally breaks open.