We Said Never: A Taboo Romance

I dash out of bed and hurry to my closest. Retrieving my suppressants, I toss three pills into my mouth and gulp them down. My body is still shaking as I slump onto the sofa and bury my face in my palm, ashamed and disgusted with myself. For a moment, I rub my eyes, then pull my hair, counting the seconds until the suppressants begin to do what little they can.

Sitting is driving me insane, so instead, I rise from the sofa and begin to pace the room in a bid to quiet the roaring voices in my head. With every second the need to go after her worsens, and though I’m starting to feel some relief, everything still aches, especially my chest, the anxiety wreaking havoc on my body.

It feels like hours since she left the room, yet the I is still eating me from the inside out, tearing at my flesh, making me feel smaller and smaller, too little to contain myself.

I check the time on my phone, almost midnight. It’s late enough. She must have fallen asleep by now, and I need to dunk my entire body in an ice bath to help with the heat.

With a deep breath, I make my way out of the room and start down the hall toward the kitchen to check for some ice, but my legs stop when I arrive by the stairs. That selfish need to speak to her returns and I pin my gaze up the stairs, fighting to keep moving. Her room is upstairs, with my leg, it will be difficult to make the trip, but I am determined. I can do this. I should do this.

But again, it’s past midnight, waking her up will do us no good. It’s not as if I’m capable of withstanding her pheromones if I’m close. I hate that she went to bed angry at me, above all else, I hate to think that I have disappointed her again.

Just when I’m about to make the first step up the stairs, I hear a drawer close in the kitchen and turn to it, the sound invites me to the kitchen and I follow it, limping slowly until I am standing by the kitchen door. Lora is wiping down the counter, her hair, touched with gray-silver streaks lay lazily against her back, and she has changed into her free-flowing night dress.

I remain by the kitchen door, watching her move from one end to another until she turns and catches sight of me. With a little gasp, she grabs her chest.

“Dear Lord, Nolan.” She chuckles. “You gave me a scare.”

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to.”

“It’s everything okay?”

I nod, my eyes doing a quick run over her. She has remained beautiful over the years, like a rose, carefully preserved in winter. Her body, even more rich with age. It is not intentional when my eyes graze over her braless breasts, a habit it seems I have retained from my teenage years. I look away the second I catch myself and continue in.

“It’s quite late, Lora.”

“Just cleaning up before turning in for the night. Did you need something?”

“Should have helped you clean up,” I say, arriving by the island.

She smiles. “It’s no bother. Besides, you’re terrible at cleaning.”

I chuckle. “I’m not a kid anymore, Loranne. I do a decent job.”

“Hmm… I guess I will always remember you as the little boy who’d rather hide his dirty boxers in the mattress for days than admit he didn’t know how to use the washing machine.”

I cringe, stifling a groan from both embarrassment and shame. I was trying to impress her even then. I looked stupid, it sucks that this is how she will always remember me, as a stupid geeky teenage boy, stacking dirty underwear under his mattress.

“No need to be embarrassed,” Lora says, reading me easily. “We’ve all done cringey teenage things.”

“Yeah? What are some of yours?”

She hums, crossing her arms. “Feels like generations ago, but at the same time like it was just yesterday. But, I used to be something of a tomboy back in the day.”

My brows shoot up. “No way.”

“Mhmm… it was all an act. I wanted to be cool because no one liked nerds, and I needed friends. My mother threw a fit about it for months.” We both chuckle. “It was not really who I was, and she could see that.”

“For the record, if I knew you back then, I would have thought you were cool.”

She laughs softly. “You have to say that, I’m your mother.”

The kitchen is quiet for a time before I lean back, digging my hands into my pocket. “Why do you always have to say that?”

“Say what?”

“Remind me that you raised me.”

Her shoulders lightly shrug. “Didn’t know it was a problem.”

“Well I… I…” I trail my gaze away. “I came here to apologize about earlier. I should never have spoken to you like that. I’m incredibly sorry, Lora. You deserve better than that, way better.

“Thank you, Nolan.” She nods, her gaze still warm

Another bout of silence sits with us for a few minutes before I rest my elbows over the counter.

“I’m grateful for the years you spent taking care of me. You married into a responsibility that should have never been yours, so please, Lora, don’t take this the wrong way when I say, you’re not my mother, and I’d love it if you start seeing me as something else.”

“Ouch.” Her brows furrow tightly and then after a few seconds, her face relaxes. “And what would you rather I see you as?”

“A friend,” I say, immediately and bite down hard on my lips.

She sighs, shaking her head. “I see.”

“You do?”

“War has made you a different man.”

“In many ways,” I agree. “I know there is a long ahead to finding my old self.”

“Or maybe embracing the new you.”

I shake my head. “How can I embrace someone I hardly know.”

Lora exhales, her fingers tapping lightly tapping against the counter.

“You should have never enlisted.”

“I had to—”

“No, you didn’t,” she insists.

“I had to, Lora.”

‘I begged you—Begged you to stay.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why not!”

“I would have gone mad, living in the same house with my father’s wife, knowing that every second of every day I belonged to you. My body, heart and soul, claimed by you, and I couldn’t give myself the way I yearned to give myself.”

“Stop…”

I pull down the side of my shirt, exposing her mark on me and Lora inhales a sharp breath. “It’s still there, it’s never going anywhere, believe me, I have tried everything to unmark myself, to correct my mistake. If I could free myself from our bond I—”

She turns away from we, giving me her back for a time before spinning back around. “Do you know what it was like, watching the news, scared out of my mind that you will not make it out alive? I wrote you letters. Called.”

“I know.”

“And you never thought to write back?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t,” she corrects and the tension thickens between us. “If you read my letters, you would have known the truth of what I felt.”

“You didn’t deserve that. You deserved a better son, a real family, the kind you wrote about in your journals. I wanted you to have that.”

“Everyone has crushes when they’re a kid, Nolan, they don’t sign up to have bombs dropped over their heads to get away from it. You outgrow it and move on and everything goes back to normal without–”

“I haven’t.”

“What?”

“I haven’t gotten over it. I haven’t gotten over you. I did not outgrow it. As I sit here, right now, in this very moment, every muscle under my skin is at war with itself, because all I have thought about since the moment I laid my eyes on you was kissing you—”

“Nolan…”

“At least to know for once what that feels like. I carry a picture of you in my wallet and every night as I flew across cities, dropping bombs, killing hundreds of people, I thought only of your face. It is what kept me alive, what made me fight my way out of that plane. I could only think I don’t want to die without knowing what it would feel like to—” I stop myself and exhale.

Through every abominable word, Lora has been staring at me eyes wide, thrown off by my brazen confession and fear ceases my heart because I don’t know what her next words would be, what she’s thinking, why she’s looking at me with utter disbelief, like I’m a complete stranger, someone foreign, distant. I wish I could reach into her mind and see what she’s thinking.

“I did not mean to startle you with that.” I rise from the chair, throwing my gaze anywhere else but her face. “I’ll head back to bed. I will go—” A wave of tingles washes over me and I groan, doubling over. I have been sitting in her pheromones for far too long, my body is immensely weakened by it, the simple act of standing is causing my head to spin.

“Are you okay?” Lora leans forward, her eyes closely examining me.

“Yeah…” I clear my throat and try to force my legs forward. I need to get away from her, I need to be far away from this kitchen, her scent, this unbearable conversation, but with another step forward, my legs wobble.

Lora rushes over and catches me in time, her arms wrapping around me, her chest pressed against mine, and I force myself into stillness. She places a palm over my head the way she used to when I got sick as a boy, her gaze motherly and warm with concern. No one ever looks at me this way, no one’s eyes have ever worried about me this way, my heart could combust with joy from being held this way, and against my better judgment, I hook an arm around her waist and rest my head on her shoulder.

“Oh… Lora…” I exhale, basking in her loving pheromones.

I have craved nothing more than this for years. To be held and cradled in her arms. To bask in her care and the warmth of her pheromones, so up close it almost feels like I’m falling into delirium. I’m sickened at the thought of breaking away, of not being in her arms, of not drowning in the waves of her pheromones.

I grab her night dress by the side and gently pull her in, her scent intoxicating me as I bury my nose in the crook of her neck. I want to lick her, taste her, bury myself inside her. Maybe it’s the pheromones, maybe it’s the unquenchable desire I have held back for years, but all of it is crashing in at once and I can’t hold back, I don’t want to.

“You’re in heat?” she asks warmly and I squeeze her tighter. “For how long now.”

“Yesterday… I think.”

“Damn it, Nolan…”

“I didn’t know that was what was happening.”

She sighs, her fingers petting my hair. Heavens her body is so warm, so tender, so welcoming. “Your suppressants?”

I shake my head. “Milk…”

Lora stiffens against mine. “What?”

I don’t want to talk. I want to remain like this for as long as I can steal. I need you, Loranne. I need you.

“You’re burning up,” she says, her hand sliding down my face until they’re cupping my cheek and I close my eyes, internally cursing when she begins leaning away. “Where are your suppressants?”

An exasperated sigh leaves me. “They won’t work on me, Lora.” My gaze falls to her breast, full and plump under the light cotton fabric of her night dress, and this time I don’t bother looking away, everything is all warped in my head, I’m starting to lose my sense of control and reason.

“Why…why not?” Lora asks and I find her eyes.

“You never… we never…” I exhale and lean back against the island. “Omega’s need certain things after a marking, Lora. I know you’ve never been with one but… well… suppressants won’t work unless the alpha that marked me…” I bite my lips, killing the words I’m about to spew.

“Oh…” She blinks, knowingly swallowing.

“Don’t worry… I manage on store-bought milk; just didn’t think I would need it this soon. The raw vitamins help my suppressants work better.”

“Has it been this way all these years?”

I nod. “I’ll manage till tomorrow morning. But I should probably put some distance between you and me, your pheromones are suffocating.”

Her fingers adjust the hair lying lazily on my forehead. “Are you sure you can manage until tomorrow morning?”

“Yes, Mo-” I stop myself before the word slips past my lips, my eyes flying open. I haven’t called her that in years, not since before I realized I saw her as more than a parent. But something about being this way with her is making me feel small again. Like a little boy in need of coddling. I clear my throat and take a step back, squaring my shoulders to remind myself that I am a man. An Airman. “I’ll be fine.” I gently move her hand away.

“Lie down in the living room, I’ll be right back.” She hurries out of the kitchen and up the stairs, and though I’m compelled to run into my room and pretend I didn’t just spew my guts in front of Loranne, I obey and limp to the sitting.

I fall onto the sofa, my body shaking as I grab my head. It’s starting to ache now, so badly that it feels as though my head is splitting into a thousand pieces. I already popped three suppressants, but the urge to pop another three surfaces.

Lora comes running down the stairs. “I brought a cool towel.”

“Thank you,” I stretch my hands to reach for it and she shakes her head.

“Let me.”

“Thanks for the offer, Loranne. But, you know, if you want to help, you’re going to have to give me space.”

“Nolan, I’m not going anywhere, lay down and stay still.”

“Your pheromones are overwhelming… it’s making it worse.” Our gazes lock for a time. “I should go back to my room. There are—” My words are cut off when my gaze lands on the little wet spot spreading through her night dress and my breath hitches.

In the few minutes since Lora disappeared into the house and returned, there has been a significant swell to her breasts, the kind that tells me that perhaps, my pheromones have been affecting her with the same intensity hers affects me.

Loranne’s eyes follow my gaze and she cups her breasts when she realizes she’s leaking, gasping a shallow breath. “Heavens,” she curses and then a little chuckle. “That explains why my body has been going crazy all day.” She turns away from me. “I’m… I’m not quite used to being around omegas. It’s been years, not since you.”

The air is silent for a time before I rise. “Goodnight, Lora.” I move to limp past her but only stumble, swaying before Loranne has me back in her arms, she settles me back into the sofa and sits beside me, placing the towel back on my forehead.

“You’re too sick to move. Why didn’t you say something earlier? I would have made you a nest at least.”

I swallow, biting my lower lip as my eyes find her breast again. It’s a difficult affair to try and stop my gaze from lingering, and when I do, my mind spirals. It feels like I’m drunk, everything is starting to blur as I go.

“You never asked for this, Lora. I put this on you, how could I ask for anymore?”

“I was the adult in the room, Nolan. That night isn’t only on you.”

“I was eighteen.”

“You were a kid. I could have done better, fought harder to ward off your pheromones. It was my responsibility.”

I swallow, adjusting until I am completely facing her. “Are you saying… you let it happen?”

Lora blinks. “I was… it was a shortsighted decision.”

My brows furrow. “You wanted to…mark me?”

“I would have bitten into anything that night, Nolan.” Her words dismiss the assumptions cooking up in my head and I bite into my inner cheek, something bitter stirring inside me.

The wet spot around her breast’s spreads, she is leaking a bit more now, soaking her night dress, and my mouth waters, my cock twitches. Most omegas are breastfed the same day they are marked, aside from not knowing what it’s like to be knotted, I haven’t the slightest clue what it feels like to have my lips around the nipples of an alpha, suckling until orgasm. It has always felt as though a part of me has been missing, a part I could not find in anyone else’s arms and I desire so terribly to know what it feels to experience this through the natural means, instead of a bottle.

I shouldn’t ask this of her, but heavens, I’m not thinking straight, and maybe I don’t want to. I have given the last of my strength to withstanding the overwhelming pressure her pheromones are putting on my muscles. But what if I let myself go. What if I stop holding myself back?

“You’re lying?” I accuse.

“About what?”

“You’re reacting to my pheromones. If it means nothing, why then are you reacting?”

“I marked you, it’s a normal reaction.”

“No… there is more.”

“Nolan let’s not do this.”

“Anything?” I mutter. “You would have bitten into Anyone?”

“I’ll get you to bed.” She moves to lift me off the sofa and I stop her hands.

“Why not me?”

“Heaven’s sake…” she sighs.

“It wouldn’t matter anyway. Right? You will never see me as an omega, so why not me?”

“I know you can’t think straight right now, but I’m still your mother, Nolan. I raised you. We can never be.”

“Step mother, and now I’m man enough to make you a mother if that is what you need.”

“Nolan…”

“Is it? Is that what you need? You always wanted a family. Your own family.”

“You’re not in your right mind.”

“I’m in heat, not stupid, Lora.” I pout, swallowing. “Am I no longer your baby boy?”

Her gaze softens at me. “You will always be my little boy,”

I whimper at the mention of that pet name on her tongue, the one she stopped calling as soon as I stopped calling her Mommy. Warm chills travels through me and soon I find myself, squeezing the helm of her dress, and before I can even think, the word slips past my lips. “Mommy…” I mutter, aching in every muscle, in every bone.

“Nolan…”

“Milk.” I tug at her dress. “Just this once.”

Heavens what’s wrong with me. I need to stop this. Pull yourself together, Nolan. Pull yourself fucking together. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… Your right, we should stop.” I try sitting up, but she places a hand on my chest and guides me back onto the sofa.

“It will start hurting in a bit,” she says. “My breasts, I mean.”

“O-oh,” I stutter.

“I don’t fill up with milk often.” Our eyes remain on each other for a time. “Maybe it’s best if you… if you suckle from me.”

I shake my head. “You don’t have to—” She slides one hand of her night dress down, revealing a right breast, swollen and full, with tiny drops of milk leaking from her nipple and I swallow.

Loranne is beautiful. Her skin is so perfectly polished and alluring, all the breath in my lungs is immediately sucked away, and with it, every thought, my mind goes blank, and all I can do is allow my eyes absorb her astounding beauty. Even the heat burning under my flesh doesn’t stop me from gaping at her in wonder of her fine womanly curve, and I’m not sure I can drag myself out of the trance I’m buried under.

“I marked you,” she says, sitting next to me. “You shouldn’t have to suffer because of it. Seven years is a long time, Nolan. You should have told me.”

My heart caves. “Would it have changed anything? Would you have… wanted me? Would you have made me yours?”

“You’ve always been mine, and there are other ways to get you what you need. I could have pumped for you, sweetheart.” Her fingers feathers across my cheek, and I know better than to let my heart be deceived by those words. She does mean it the way I hear it. I have always been hers, like a son.

I bite my lip and I turn away. “I can make it through the night without your milk, Lora.”

Yes, I need her, but I cannot picture a world where suckling from her once will be enough. The need to be attached to her again and again will triumph over everything else in my life, until I’m back where I was when I first joined the Air Force, miserable and defeated.

“Maybe.” She taps her lap. “But you will be stronger if you nurse from me instead.” I open my mouth to protest because I know I will not be able to stop myself, I will reach for more and more until there is nothing else to reach for. “You’ll also be helping me out if suckle,” she presses on, cutting into my thoughts. “With time, my breast will begin to hurt with no relief.” Milk drips from her nipple, sending a shiver through me as my mouth waters.

Gently she lowers me onto her lap, positioning me carefully until I’m right under her breast, my nipples right in place to suckle. A little drop of milk splashes against my lips and whatever is left of my resistance slips away. I turn my head inward, as her hands cradle me closer and my dick throbs, hardening in my shorts, my knot completely coming undone.

“I need you to suckle for me, sweetheart.”

I curl my toes and squeeze the side of my clothes, an attempt to stop myself from hardening any further. She has been kind enough to extend herself this way and I don’t want to give her the slightest impression, that any of this will cross the line. This is simply an alpha helping an omega in need and nothing more. That is what I need it to be.

I need to stay soft.

I need to stay soft.

I need to stay soft,

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Those are normal,” Lora says, gently grazing my dick with her fingers. “You don’t have to hide it from me. Just suckle.”

I’m not sure how she could tell what lingered in my thoughts, but it feels like a weight taken off my shoulders, because yes, getting hard is normal for omegas when having milk. I get hard all the time. It doesn’t have to mean something more.

My lips graze her nipple again and this time I latch on to her firm round nipple, and without giving much thought to it, achieve my first suckle. A warm stream of creamy sweetness fills my mouth and I moan, squeezing my eyes shut as my entire body comes undone.