Epilogue
Pepper
Two Years Later
Charlie snores on his custom-made sheep’s wool bed in the corner of the room. I swear that dog could sleep through a tornado. Heck, I think he did last spring. Granted, we don’t get very big tornadoes here.
I rub my hand down over my stomach as I roll onto my back and stare up at the whirring ceiling fan. It’s still dark outside, but I know the alarm will be going off any second.
Living on a farm has taught me a lot of things I didn’t know. For one, you get up early every single day. I didn’t realize that would be such a religious occurrence. Sure, I knew we’d get up early every once in a while, but every day? Even before the sun starts coming up?
Another thing I wasn’t expecting is how easily chickens outwit you. These girls strut around like they own the place, and every morning without fail, at least two of them slip out of the coop without me noticing. They love to sneak down to the wildflower patch and treat themselves.
I’ve also never been so inclined to pay such close attention to the weather. Out here, we’re living by it, and so far, we’ve had the dryest summer in well over a hundred years.
That’s why we’ve been getting up even earlier, hours before the sun, to beat the heat during chores. Every morning, without fail, Rhett insists I stay inside to rest, but I love the early mornings with him too much to sleep in.
There’s something about the soft song of crickets, the trickle of the creek, and the shadows that cast over the land as the sun rises.
The whole scene sets me up for a happier day.
Not to mention the view of the giant, inked-up monster of a man who’s tossing hay.
That kind of show only plays a couple of times a day, and I don’t miss any of them.
Haven’t since the day we moved in together. Nearly two years ago on the dot.
After my mom got out of the hospital with her broken femur, Rhett went to work remodeling a storage shed on the other side of the property.
We were all a little wary of his idea at first, but when he was finished, that shed looked like a high-end one-bedroom apartment with butcher block counters, stainless steel appliances, and a natural stone fireplace.
He even installed a walk-in shower with non-slip tiling and handrails so my mom can get in and out with ease.
And while I was painting the place, he built an accessible greenhouse for her out back so she can be outside living her life again.
I don’t think there are enough biscuits in the world to thank this man for everything he’s done for my family, for me, for us.
Heck, that was the first thing I said in my wedding vows, that I would spend the rest of my life doing whatever I could to thank him for this beautiful, peaceful life he’s given me, and I mean it.
Our wedding was small, simple, and perfect for us.
The sun was out, the butterfly weed and the lupine were blooming, Reed played his guitar, and we said our vows.
The entire event, including the white dress I found at the vintage shop on Main Street and the barbeque we had afterward, cost us less than five hundred dollars.
My engagement ring, though, that’s priceless.
The band is golden, slender, and worn, with delicate flourishes on the edge, perfectly framing the rose-cut garnet stone.
It belonged to Rhett’s grandmother. Her marriage lasted nearly seventy years, and I’m beyond honored to be carrying on the tradition, though Rhett did have two small diamonds set on either side of the garnet to make it our own.
The alarm goes off and my giant groans and rolls toward me, the bed creaking. “You’re awake already? Why? We agreed that you should sleep in and let me get up and do this early morning shit.”
I land my hand on his strong back, drawing lines down the center and up again with the tips of my fingers. “The baby’s been kicking all night. I think he’s ready to come out.”
Rhett kisses my belly. “Does he know once he’s out of there, I’m putting him to work?”
I shake my head and grin. “Don’t let him hear you saying that. I just sent the eviction notice. He needs to evacuate the premises ASAP. My body needs a break!”
“I don’t know,” he rumbles, his rough hands wandering over my curves. “I kind of like it like this.”
“How so?”
“We have the idea of a baby coming soon, but none of the responsibility,” he tugs at my nightgown to expose my hard, milk-filled breasts, “and I get all these curves, and all this milk to myself. It doesn’t get much better.”
“For you, maybe.” I shove his shoulder playfully as he suckles at my tit. “I’m swollen, my feet hurt, I can’t bend over or see my toes, and if I walk too long, I feel like my back is going to snap in half.”
“So don’t stand up then.” He suckles my nipples between his words, milk dripping from his chin. “Stay right here in bed. I’ll take care of everything on the farm. You… can be my little sex toy, and I’ll come up between chores to pleasure you.”
My clit throbs as he suckles milk from my breast and rubs my bare pussy.
The internet says that women usually get their milk after the baby is born, but I started leaking a couple of weeks ago.
Rhett didn’t hesitate. He wanted every drop of me.
To be safe, though, we called the doctor.
She said I’m fine, and that early lactation is better than late lactation.
So now, every day, Daddy has a drink from his baby girl.
Sometimes, he drinks in the morning before chores.
Other days, he drinks after we’ve settled down for the evening.
Given that another natural side effect of pregnancy has been an increased libido, I don’t mind the soft touches and the sweet romantic way he needs every drop of whatever my body makes.
“You taste extra sweet this morning, baby. Must be all those strawberries you had yesterday.”
My mom has been growing strawberries in the greenhouse, and she gave me two bushels.
I think I ate them all before supper, and still, we went over to the ice cream shop for cones later that night.
Moe’s does really well this time of year, and while we all help out at the shop, my father is playing a huge role in the day-to-day operations.
He says it’s a thank you for building them the new place.
Honestly, it’s been good to see him out of the house again.
Rhett leans into my neck and growls low, the warm heat from his breath relaxing every nerve. “Daddy needs you, baby girl.” He trails his heat back to my breast and suckles again at my tit. “Ass up, head down.”
God, I love this about him. The way he commands me. The way he demands my body.
Already soaked, I flip over and bend forward, resting my head against the soft sheet that still smells like the unique masculine, woody smell that only he has.
“Good girl,” he growls, rubbing his hand up over my back before squeezing my shoulders. “You know Daddy loves his baby’s body. So soft and tight.”
I moan and wiggle my ass backward until I feel the head of his thick cock pressing up against my sopping seam.
“That’s a girl. You need Daddy, don’t you?”
“Please!” I whine. “My pussy is throbbing. I need you so bad! Fuck me and fill me up!”
“You know Daddy loves it when you beg, princess.” He slides inside slowly, and even after two years, I still feel a pinch as his big, thick dick spreads me wide.
“Oh God,” I moan, gripping the sheets as my tits spill out of my nightgown and my expanded stomach brushes against the bed. “Right there.”
“Did Daddy hit the spot, little girl?”
My throat tightens as his cock brushes the magic spot again. I won’t last long now. Once he’s in this place, the whole game is over. I don’t know what it is about being pregnant, but it’s made this position easier to get to than ever.
“Keep going,” I pant, gripping the sheets tighter, trying to hold myself in place as he drives his massive frame into me again and again.
“You’re squeezing me, baby girl. Come on.
Come for Daddy.” He drives into me over and over, my pussy tightening around his cock as the head presses into the back wall of my cervix.
God, it feels good. Really good. So good that pressure builds in my thighs, blooms into my pelvis, and within seconds, my entire body is convulsing against his touch.
Rhett grunts and comes along with me, his big hands gripping my hips tighter as he empties his balls inside.
“My God.” He leans forward and kisses my back, the rough scratch of his beard tickling me as he moves. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” I say, collapsing onto my side, my tits leaking milk onto the sheets I just washed yesterday.
Rhett folds down beside me, his massive frame forcing a creak through the mattress. “You can’t love me more,” he says, kissing my forehead. “It’s impossible. I already love you most.”
His eyes are closed, his breath is shallow, and I know that neither of us are getting out of this bed an hour early like we planned. This is another thing that’s prevalent on the farm.
Love.
Sweet, wild, possessive, feral love. The kind that makes you want to stay in bed and forget every other responsibility.
And I, for one, can’t get enough of it.
THANK YOU FOR READING.
READ NIKKI’S STORY HERE.