People think my obsession is about control. It’s not. It’s about hunger. A hunger so deep it lives in my bones. I remember the first time I tasted him—not just his lips, his skin, his sweat—but the surrender. The way his breath hitched when I whispered in his ear what I’d do to him. I didn’t just want his cock; I wanted his fear, his trust, his absolute fucking devotion. I wanted to own the sounds he makes when I’m sucking him dry or when I have his head between my thighs and I’m grinding against his face until he’s drowning in me. I wanted to be the last thing he thinks of before sleep and the first when he wakes hard and aching for me. That’s not control. That’s consumption. And I’m still starving. Always will be. #MarriedLife #YandereThoughts #ObsessionIsLove