Tia

Emerson kisses me like we have forever in this farmhouse like there’s nothing but this night and us. It feels as if we are a million miles away from the rest of the world. I was horrible to him, yet instead of fighting, he forgives. Instead of anger, he accepts.

I pull him to the bed with me, my hand wrapped around his cock, feeling his desire growing as my need for him runs through my veins.

“I love you,” I whisper in his ear, my finger tracing the lines of his tattoos, seeing a new depth in him after everything he shared tonight. He has never been more handsome.

He is a father. A husband. Mine. And all I want is to make him happy. Make him proud. I ease him down onto the mattress, my fingers massaging his tight balls. He rakes his fingers through my hair as I part my lips and take him in my mouth.

His cock is so hard, so big, and I want to make him happy, so I take as much of him as I can. His hand runs over my butt, drawing my body closer to his as I continue to suck him, up and down. He pulls my leg over him, so I am straddling him from behind, and his fingers begin to run up and down my pussy.

It excites me, the way he touches me in the dark bedroom, the light of the moon filtering through the half-closed curtains. My head bobs up and down as I lick his hard ridges, smiling in pleasure as I get my husband closer to orgasm.

His fingers enter my opening, my clit throbbing as he begins to circle it with expertise. He dips two fingers into me, and I gag on his length as I forget to breathe, the rush of ecstasy flowing through me as his fingers flutter in my pussy,

“You like that, baby?” he asks as I pant, sucking him deeper and deeper as he begins to rub me up and down.

He knows I love it, my pussy is wet and warm, and when he pulls on my hips, easing me closer to his mouth, I moan loudly, before realizing his parents are a few doors down. Mortified, I take him in my mouth again, wanting to keep quiet.

Em laughs, clearly understanding, and instead of easing up on me, he begins to lick me with abandon. His thick beard tickles me in all the right ways and I squirm, laughing as he licks me until I am delirious.

“You taste so fucking good, Tia,” he tells me, taking a breather from burying his face in my pussy.

I don’t answer. Instead, I begin to suck him until he is the one groaning, coming in my mouth the way I hoped he would.

His creamy release slides down my throat and I keep sucking, wanting to taste every last drop he has to give me. When he finishes, I spin myself around, wiping my lips, and sinking down on his still hard cock.

“God, Tia,” he growls, his hands on my breasts, his fingers rolling over my hard nipples. “You’re the perfect one.”

I close my eyes, knowing he has it so backward, but I don’t ever want to disagree with Emerson again. Of course, in time we will have disagreements, but I never want to hurt him with my words the way I did tonight. I want to be a better wife, a good, honorable woman. I have so much to learn, but as I move my hips against my husband's cock, taking in all the love he has for me. I make a vow, under the full moon, and the night stars, in his cozy bedroom in this lovely house -- to do better. To do my absolute best with this life I have been given, for however long I have been given it.

I want to make a home for my husbands, for our babies.

There are so many things out of my control. But there are other things that no one can take from me. I could focus on all that is wrong, or I could let myself be consumed with all that is right.

And right now, as Emerson fills me with himself, as my body opens to his, I know this is exactly right.

The days go by too quickly on the farm. I watch the men work in the fields and with the animals, and I help Em’s mom in the kitchen. Although she won’t let me do too much, insisting I rest.

But here, with the fresh air, and surrounded by love and laughter, I’m not as tired or nauseous as I had been back at the compound.

“You should be napping,” Emerson says, kissing my cheek when he finds me in the kitchen, elbow deep in flour as I help roll out dough for tonight’s meat pies.

“I feel great. Really.” I smile up at him reassuringly.

“It’s the tea,” Grace says, “It’s infused with myosotis parviflora.”

I frown. “With what?”

“It’s a small flower found only on this island.”

“Oh.” I worry my bottom lip between my teeth.

“Don’t worry, dear, it’s safe. We’ve been using it for generations to help with morning sickness as well as many other ailments.”

“Still...” I say, pushing the cup of freshly brewed tea away. “I think I should have Banks look at it in case it has any interactions with his treatments.”

Grace opens her mouth and I think she’s going to argue, but I see the look Em gives her, and instead she turns back to her baking.

“Sorry,” I say, hating that I may have hurt her feelings. “But with the complications of this pregnancy, I can’t take any risks.”

Em places a hand on my shoulder. “I know. And our babies are going to be just fine.”

“Babies?” Grace says with a gasp, turning back around quickly. “You’re having twins?”

Damn. I hadn’t wanted to worry her. But I guess she was going to find out eventually.

“Six, actually.”

She just blinks at me, and for a moment I wonder if she might faint. Her hand goes to her chest, and her worried eyes fall on Emerson. “Six? But that’s...”

“A miracle,” he provides, even though I know it’s not the word she was looking for.

Grace forces a smile, but concern lingers in her gaze, even though she tries to play it off. “Six grandbabies. How wonderful.”

Emerson squeezes my shoulder. “Which is one of the reasons I brought Tia here. I know you’ve had experience with multiples.” He looks down at me. “My mom used to be a midwife.”

“Before all the women left.” Grace wipes her hands on her apron. “With them all living in compounds on the mainland, there’s no need for me anymore.”

“I didn’t know.”

She shrugs. “The last child I delivered was--” Her lips tighten on the name she was going to utter. “Well, it was a long time ago. But I will tell you that I never had a single mother or child die in my care.”

“Not one?” I look at her in astonishment.

“I’m telling you, sweet girl, there are healing powers in the myosotis parviflora.” She gives a hard little shake of her head.

“Have you ever had the flower analyzed?” I ask.

“Now you’re sounding like one of those scientists.”

I don’t correct her, and admit that I am one of those scientists.

She sighs. “The only proof I need is what I’ve seen with my own eyes. The red-faced, healthy, screaming little girls that I’ve brought into this world.”

“Do you have any flowers here that I can take back with us?”

She seems to like that suggestion. Smiling she says, “I’ll send Will out to gather some before you leave.”

“Thank you.”

She nods, but I can still see the worry in her eyes.

“The twins that you delivered, they... they lived?”

“Both girls and mom are still alive and healthy. They’ll be sixteen next summer.” She breathes out a long sigh. “Soon they’ll be off to the lottery as well.”

“You don’t agree with it? The Lottery?”

“It’s the lack of choice that I don’t agree with. What is humanity without choice?” Grace says.

“The strong have always taken the choice away from the weak,” Emerson says, surprising me. “It isn’t any different now.”

“So, you don’t think there’s anything we can do about it?” I ask, glancing up at my husband. Grace turns back to the baking, giving us privacy.

“I didn’t say that.” He drags his thumb across my cheek. “We fight every day for freedom. For love.”

“Do you wish life were different though?” I take his hand in mine, needing to know if he has regrets about the life we’ve created together. “Do you wish you could have a... traditional marriage?”

“I used to. But now, I can’t imagine my life any other way. And if I have to share you with five other men, then that’s the way it has to be.” He pulls me into his arms, and from the corner of my eye, I see Grace leave the room. “But I am glad when I get some time alone with you.”

He kisses me then, soft, sweet, full of all the emotions I feel.

“Yuck.” Mason’s voice says behind us. “Why are grown-ups so gross?”

Emerson chuckles. “Trust me, one day you won’t think kissing is gross.”

Mason twists his face before disappearing out the door.

“He really does look like you,” I say, my heart clenching for all the moments Emerson has missed with his son.

But then he was still practically a child himself when the boy was born. Maybe he was right in letting his parents raise him as their own. Still, I wonder if there’s any part of Emerson that wants the boy with us, in the compound.

“Do you...?” I place my palms on his chest, not knowing how to broach the subject.

His fingers brush my hair away from my cheek. “Do I what?”

“Want Mason with you?”

His brows drawn down. “You mean at the compound?”

I nod. “He’s your son. If you want--”

“No.” He rests his forehead against mine. “Mason belongs here. The compound would be a cage for a boy like him. And I don’t think my mom would survive losing him. But I love you a little more for suggesting it.”

“I want you to be happy.”

“God, Tia. If I was any happier, I think my heart would burst from my chest. You’re my everything.”

“I love you so much.”

“Enough to trust me?”

“You know I do.”

“I mean about the myosotis parviflora.”

I sigh. “It’s not about trusting you, Em. It’s about science versus--”

“Okay. I get it. Just promise me that you’ll have Banks look into it before you dismiss it completely. I only want to protect you, and I’ve seen the miracle of--”

“I know.” I lean up on my toes and kiss him again. “Your hope is contagious, Em.”

But hope isn’t what will save me and our children. Only science will. Unfortunately, that’s not something that Emerson or his mom can understand.