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A naughty look floods her face.
“It’s the first moment of peace we’ve had since Martin was born. I was thinking—” My mind races with all the filthy things I'd do to her if we weren’t in the open.
She stills me by hovering a finger over my lips.
“I know what you’ve been thinking because you’ve thought it six times before.”
“And I’ll think it a thousand times more before I die. Y’know, Tony’s leaving for college when winter ends. Our home will feel mighty empty without him here.”
“Empty?” She raises a brow, but her smirk doesn’t match the playful concern in her eyes. “We have seven children.”
“We can’t stop on an uneven number. It’s bad luck.” I laugh at the absurdity of the bullshit I will spew to get back inside my woman and pump her belly full of my seed.
“I think you’ve used that one before.” Alyssa cups my cheek and presses her lips against mine. "When Lisa was born."
“I can’t help myself. You’re fucking perfect. You've given me seven perfect children. How can I not want another?”
“Do you mean that?” she asks.
My brow furrows and I shrug my shoulders in a way to indicatewhat do you mean?
“You can’t see it under the padding, but I’m not the woman I used to be.”
“Alyssa, my wife, you are as stunning now as the day I met you.” I take her hand and brush her wooly gloved knuckle with my thumb. “I lie. Your beauty exceeds your youth. You carried my seven offspring nine months at a time and pushed your body to the limits to bring them into this world. Your elegance and grace have never faltered, they have bloomed into perfection. You used to be my princess, the woman I cherished with all my heart. But do you know what you are now?”
“What?” She sniffles with the question while joyous tears flood her eyelids.
“You are my queen, and I’m damn lucky to have you at my side.”
While Rocky and Lisa fight over a five-dollar ball I bought from the dime store in town, the rest of my offspring play frantically in the chilly autumn wind. Their red noses and gleeful laughter fill the empty space that will soon be blanketed in snow.
“Let’s go inside and let the children play,” Alyssa says.
She stands up from her seat and takes my hand. She leads me through the front door, and as soon as it shuts, she can’t keep her hands off me. Her fingers dance across my winter wear as she finds a way to strip me down. We laugh and giggle like our children outside while we sprint upstairs.
And as we get to our bed, Alyssa jumps on top of it. She cradles my head against her bosom and whispers the words I’ll never tire of hearing. “I love you, Cain Hawthorne.”
“And I love you, my queen, until the end of time.”
The End.
