Hot Fuck

When we get home, the house is quiet and dark. Adam doesn’t even turn on the main light; he just lights a single candle on the sideboard. The atmosphere is different tonight—heavy with the reflection of Ben and Brina's union, but also charged with the reality of my growing body.

"Take off the dress, Amalia," he says, his voice low.

I reach for the zipper at my back, which has become a bit tight over the last few weeks. As the blue fabric falls to the floor, I stand before him in only the light blue stay-ups and my pumps. My belly is now a firm, unmistakable curve, and my breasts feel heavy and sensitive, the veins showing blue beneath the skin.

Adam approaches me and places both hands on my bump. He doesn't say anything at first; he just feels the life inside.

"You look like a true Quiver woman now," he whispers. "The first arrow is growing well."

He leads me to the sofa, but he doesn't make me bend over or kneel this time. Instead, he sits down and pulls me onto his lap, facing him. The weight of my pregnancy makes the friction different, more intense. As he enters me, I feel a deep, grounding ache of satisfaction.

Because of the "second-trimester hunger" I told the girls about, I am the one setting the pace. I wrap my arms around his neck, my belly pressed against his chest, and move with a desperation that seems to surprise him.

"Slow down, wife," he grunts, gripping my hips. "You're going to exhaust me before the night is out."

"I can't," I moan into his ear. "I feel like I can never get enough of you lately."

He chuckles, a deep sound in his chest, and gives in to my rhythm. When he finally reaches his peak, I feel the familiar warmth flooding my womb, and for a moment, the world outside—the punishments, the rules, and the expectations—disappears. There is only the heat of the fire and the weight of the future inside me.

Later, as we lie in bed, Adam stays awake for a while, stroking my hair.

"Ben will have a hard time with Brina," he says suddenly. "She isn't as submissive as you. My father had to use the switch on her more than once. Ben will have to be firm if he wants a peaceful house."

I don't reply. I just close my eyes, thinking of Cynthia and the year she has left before it is her turn to sit in this bed, wondering if she will ever truly find peace in being a "quiver."