Wife Number Seven

by Melissa Brown

  “I want to make you come.” His fingers popped open the top buttons of my dress. “Will you let me?”

  I had no words, but I wanted to know what he was talking about. I wanted to lose myself, to trust Porter with my body, with my soul.

  The pressure of his lips scorched my neck as his fingers attacked the fastened buttons of my dress. Panting with anticipation, I could feel my panties growing damp. I didn’t understand the sensation or meaning of moisture there; it had never happened before. But as the swelling of my private area escalated, I began to understand his words. That demand of release.

  I wanted to come. And I wanted Porter to do it to me.

  “Yes.” My voice cracked and I looked up at the ceiling, lost in Porter’s touch. “Please, make me forget him and his touch. I want to feel you, just you.”

  Porter cracked a satisfied smile as he walked me backward to his bed. “Lay down, Brin.”

  “Here?” I asked, confused. Lehi had always preferred the other side of the bed. The covers would form a cocoon over us as he attempted to impregnate me each week.

  Porter nodded, placing one finger on my lips, urging me to stop speaking.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked, his eyes narrowed as if he wasn’t sure he knew the answer.

  But I didn’t hesitate. “I trust you more than anyone else. Anyone at all.”

  “Good.” He smoothed down my hair before unfastening the remaining buttons of my dress. It fell to the floor, but the mandatory long underwear remained, covering my body completely.

  Porter shook his head. “Such beauty, covered like this. It’s a sacrilege.”

  Within seconds, the long underwear fell in a heap beside my cotton dress, and Porter urged me to lie flat on the bed. I reached for him, expecting him to lie above me. But he shook his head, instead kneeling on the floor, and wrapped his hands around my thighs. He tugged my body gently, pulled me closer to the edge of the bed, then removed my underpants.

  My heart raced and I started to panic. I had no idea what he was doing. Or what he planned to do to me. “Porter, wha—”

  “Shh,” he said. “Just lie back. I told you I was going to make you come, Brin. Just relax and trust me, all right?”

  I swallowed hard, lowering myself to lie flat on the bed, once again looking up at the ceiling of Porter’s bedroom. His lips touched the inner skin of my thighs and I jumped slightly. The sensation tickled.

  “Try to relax, Brin.” His whisper was so soft, I almost didn’t hear him.

  I exhaled loudly, trying desperately to follow his directions. I didn’t want to disappoint him, to make him think I didn’t trust him.

  What he did next was almost indescribable. He placed feathery kisses from my thighs all the way to my private area, where his tongue pressed into me, into the ache that had been building since he first touched me. Again and again he pressed his lips, his tongue, his mouth over me, and I writhed beneath him. My hands balled into fists, grasping the cotton sheets tightly as the ache continued to grow and build and expand. My body climbed higher and higher until the desire to burst became painful. My entire mind focused on the ache and his tongue and the burning desire—no, need—for him to go deeper.

  “Don’t stop. Please, Porter. Don’t stop.”

  “Tell me,” he murmured. “Tell me what you want, Brin.”

  “I-I can’t . . .”

  “Yes, you can. What do you want me to do?”

  “Make . . .” I paused, embarrassed by the words. “Make me come, Porter. Please.”

  Porter matched my moans with his own, the pressure and intensity of his mouth on me increasing with my pleas. I wanted to see him, to see what he was doing. I lifted up on my elbows only to fall back to the bed, writhing with another surge of bliss. Until the climbing was no longer possible, until my body seemed to open, to explode over the precipice of absolute ecstasy. Porter continued to lick and stroke my sex as I thrashed beneath him, his hands holding my hips in place as I cried out in pleasure.

  Oh. My. Word.

  Porter’s grip on me loosened and he returned his lips to the sensitive skin of my thighs. His kisses were gentle and his hands rubbed my scorching skin, urging me to return back to earth.

  “What was that?”

  “You came.” He smiled. “You had an orgasm.”

  My breath was ragged and tears formed in my eyes. “I-I have no words. I . . . didn’t know that was possible . . . to feel like that.”

  Porter rose to his feet and lay down beside me, stroking the stray hair from my eyes. “I know.”

  “How did you do that?” I asked, so curious, wanting to understand what he had done to me.

  He threw his head back in laughter, returning his gaze to mine with a proud grin. “That was only the beginning, Brin. I want to make you feel everything. I want to worship you, your body, your heart.”

  A tear slipped down my cheek as my heart filled with his words.

  “Will you let me?” he asked, his expression so earnest as his eyes glistened.

  “Yes.” I nodded. “I want you, Porter. More than you can imagine.”

  “Good.” He glanced at his watch. “You never told me how you got here. Shouldn’t you be taking care of Jorjina?”

  “She asked me to leave her be for a while. I have a few hours to myself. I came as quickly as I could.”

  “Wow.” He rolled over to look up at the ceiling.

  I leaned up on my elbow and ran my fingers up and down his chest, exploring his muscles beneath the soft cotton of his T-shirt.

  “Do you . . . want to lay with me now?”

  I couldn’t imagine that Porter wouldn’t want a release similar to what I had experienced. Now I understood why Lehi had always collapsed onto my chest, groaning into my shoulder. But unlike Porter, Lehi had no intention of ever sharing that sensation. It was a secret he kept all to himself.

  Porter stretched out his arm to stroke the bare skin of my back. “Not today. Today was about you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “You don’t owe me anything, Brin. You know that, right? I’m not like him.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you?” His voice was sharp, doubtful.

  “Yes. You’re nothing like my husband.”

  Porter flinched at the word husband. I didn’t say it to hurt him, but it was the reality. Lehi was my husband in the eyes of our Heavenly Father.

  “Tell me something. Something about you. About why you left.”

  “Ugh.” He groaned. “Now?”

  “Please.” I begged him with my eyes to humor me.

  He rolled to his side, rising on his elbow, mirroring my position on the bed. “Okay, well . . . it was years ago. I’d gotten in trouble a few times. A few buddies and I were meeting up in the woods to drink beer, smoke weed. Shit like that. My parents found out, and so did the prophet.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.” He stared off into space. “Within a day, we were gone. All of us. My mom dropped me on the street downstairs with a hundred dollars and a suitcase filled with clothes.”

  “That must have been awful.”

  “Worst day of my life.”

  We lay in silence. Porter stared at the wall, gritting his teeth while I gazed into his icy blue eyes. Eyes that were moistening with each second. He blinked twice and returned his gaze to mine.

  “That suitcase . . . I can’t bring myself to use it. The second my mother pulled it from the bed of my father’s truck, I recognized it. My father had used it for business, but I always think of this one day . . .”

  “Tell me,” I urged him.

  “One morning, two of my little sisters had decided to run away from home after receiving spankings from our mother. They packed some dresses, their long underwear, and toothbrushes into the case and had walked to the end of the block. They were like six and seven, ya know? Just little girls. So I ran to catch up with them. I convinced them to come back home with me, that they were just being silly, that they needed to kee
p sweet, to follow the rules and return home. And they did.”

  “Wow.”

  “I can’t explain it, ya know? But that memory haunts me.”

  “Maybe you miss your sisters?”

  “Maybe, but I think it’s more than that. Like no good deed goes unpunished or something. I tried to be a good kid and I don’t know why that went unnoticed.” Porter appeared to shake those thoughts from his head. “Anyway, I can’t stand to use it, but I can’t throw it away either. It just sits in my closet. I borrow duffel bags from Charlie when I’m away on a job site or whatever.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Porter said, his words insistent. “I have choices now that I never thought I’d have. I’m in control of my life. There’s nothing better.”

  “Tell me more. Please.” I reached out and linked my fingers through his, wanting to be close to him, curious about his life in the outside world. “What were your first days like? You know, here in this apartment.”

  “Charlie was awesome. He was happy to have me here. Hooked me up with a job, eventually. But I swear I played video games for like two days straight. I’d never seen anything like it. And the movies. Oh my God. The first time Charlie and I went to the theater, I was dying. Seriously. I had this big tub of popcorn, a giant Coke, all this candy. Shit cost me a huge chunk of the money from my parents, but I didn’t care. I saw this awesome movie with all these special effects and shit. It was incredible.”

  “I’ll bet.” I smiled. I had almost no idea what he was talking about, but his excitement, his passion about life outside the compound was intoxicating.

  He stared off into space again, but this time with a contented smile on his face. It was infectious. I found my lips turning up as I watched him reminisce.

  “I want to feel what you’re feeling,” I said without thinking.

  “Don’t say that, Brin. Not until you’re sure.” He looked back at me, his expression hard. “Are you sure?”

  I shook my head, compelled to be honest. I wanted to feel the elation that clearly came with experiencing life outside the compound, but I wasn’t brave enough to take that leap.

  Not yet.

  We sat in silence before I braved the question I had wanted to ask him for days.

  “Our compound . . . it’s so painful for you, but you came to see me anyway. Why did you do that?”

  He paused, looking at me with surprise on his handsome face. “Don’t you already know the answer to that?”

  Again, I shook my head.

  Porter cleared his throat, taking a deep breath. “That place . . . it’s my hell. But I’d go into hell for you, Brin, no questions asked. I’d do it again and again to make you mine.”

  “But I am,” I insisted, tracing his chin with my fingertips. “I’m already yours.”

  Porter sighed and positioned himself above me, rolling me to my back once again. His lips pressed to mine, then moved to my chin, my neck, my collarbone. The sensations made me tremble, and the throbbing of my private area resumed.

  Again? So soon? How is that possible?

  “I want you,” I whispered. “So badly.”

  “No,” Porter insisted, pulling away.

  “Why?”

  He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and stared into my eyes. “I have to say something . . . and it might seem weird.”

  “Okay,” I replied, confused.

  “I can’t sleep with you, knowing that in a few days you’ll be sleeping with him. I can’t share you. I won’t.”

  “Porter, I ca—”

  “Do you enjoy fucking him?” he spat out.

  “Fucking?” I’d heard Porter use the curse word before, but never as a verb. Honestly, sometimes talking with him was like having a conversation with someone from a foreign country.

  He rolled his eyes. “Sex. Do you like having sex with him?”

  “You know the answer to that,” I said with a frown.

  How could he possibly think I enjoyed my time with Lehi? It was my duty, my obligation. It was never for my enjoyment.

  “Okay, so—?”

  Unsure of his meaning, I shrugged.

  “Stop sleeping with him,” he said flatly.

  “I have no choice.” I sat straight up in Porter’s bed, scooting down to the edge to retrieve my dress.

  “Yes, you do. There’s always a way. We just have to find it.”

  “It’s my job, Porter. I’m supposed to produce a baby for him. It’s my entire reason for being.”

  “That’s what they want you to think, Brin, but it’s not true. You’re here on this earth to be you. That’s all.”

  “I wish it were that simple. Lehi expects . . . no, he demands a baby.”

  The long underwear felt like a straitjacket against my skin. But I ignored the suffocation of the garment, buttoning it all the way to the top.

  “So, give him one,” Porter said, his eyes widening as if he was finally making sense of the universe.

  But I was still clueless. I didn’t want a baby with Lehi.

  “No!” I shouted. “I’m on the pill, Porter. I don’t want—”

  “That’s not what I meant. I wasn’t being literal.”

  “I’m confused.” I gritted my teeth as I fastened the buttons of my dress.

  “Lie.”

  “What?” I gasped. How could Porter ask me to lie?

  “Make it up. Tell him you’re pregnant.”

  “But I—”

  “No, listen, it’s all making sense to me now.” Porter stood and paced the room as he spoke. “Lehi follows the doctrine, right? He doesn’t sleep with his pregnant wives, right?”

  I nodded. When any sister wife of mine had been pregnant, Lehi did not lay with her. In fact, he didn’t even share her bed. He’d check in with her from time to time, but would spend his nights with the wives who could give him the release he sought in the bedroom.

  “So, tell him you’re pregnant and he won’t touch you. It’s perfect.” Porter grinned from ear to ear, as if he were a detective who’d just solved a mystery.

  “I don’t know . . .”

  He walked to me, taking my hands in his. “Please, Brin. I’m begging you. I can’t share you, I won’t.”

  “He’ll expect me to show.” I frowned and reached down to cup my belly.

  “You’ll tell him you lost it.”

  “What?” I screeched. “No, I could never do that. That’s . . . that’s an abomination. To fake the death of a child, I can’t.”

  “Brinley, you’re on the fucking pill! What’s the difference? Every single month, you trick your body into not getting pregnant. Every goddamn month! Seriously, what’s the difference?”

  I had no answer. I was speechless.

  “It’s no different.” He pulled me closer to him. “I know this is insane. I know I’m asking you to do something totally crazy, but I can’t be with you knowing you’re sleeping with him. I just can’t.”

  “I . . .” I had no idea what to say.

  “Please,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to mine. “You possess my soul. So much it hurts, Brin.”

  Tears welled in my eyes.

  “I need you to be mine.”

  “I am,” I insisted.

  “Mine alone, Brin. Not shared with some fuckhead who has no idea how special you are, how absolutely remarkable you are. Please, please do this. For us.”

  We stood in silence for several minutes as I processed his request. I knew my answer, but was terrified to say the words. I knew what I wanted; that much was clear. But my fear was nothing to ignore. It was a beast inside me, dominating my every breath.

  I swallowed hard, pushing the beast down.

  “I’ll do it.”

  Chapter 17

  Several years ago . . .

  Alice Hammond knew.

  She knew the prophet was not pleased with her husband.

  And she knew why.

  Her eldest son, Porter.

  Alice was the s
econd wife of Ron Hammond, and her firstborn son had always stood out in their family. Her two sister wives had no trouble reminding her each time he spoke his mind, broke a rule despite being punished many times before, or was caught speaking to a girl in the compound.

  He was trouble. Always had been.

  And now his behavior was threatening her husband’s place in the priesthood. And not just from one transgression. Everyone knew that God’s revelations weren’t solely based on single incidents, but on the ramifications of repeated behavior. And Porter’s behavior had been insubordinate for years. But he’d crossed the line when they found him in the woods engaging in completely outlandish behavior, drinking alcohol and smoking marijuana.

  Ron had returned home after a lengthy meeting with the prophet. Exhaustion filled his expression when he asked Alice to join him for prayer. Together, they prayed to Heavenly Father, pledging their devotion to the prophet and to the Lord above. It was during this prayer that Ron shared the prophet’s revelation with Alice.

  “Porter must leave our home. Our community. The prophet received a revelation from our Lord.” His face was stern, and the harsh tone of his voice told Alice this was not up for discussion.

  Rather than argue with her husband, she simply said, “Please tell me more, husband.”

  He nodded, accepting her compliance. “If Porter does not leave, you and the children will be reassigned to a community in Texas. We will never see one another again. Not only would I lose you, but I would never be able to take on another. I would have two wives . . . for the rest of my days. And I will no longer, and may never, have a secure place in the celestial kingdom.

  Alice gasped; this was her greatest nightmare. Ron was an exemplary member of their community, an elder of the church and a respected member of the priesthood. She couldn’t allow this to happen.

  Texas? She’d never been outside Colorado City, and the idea of being relocated to a different state, to a different home with a different man, terrified her.

  No, the answer was simple. Ron was right. They had to listen to the prophet, for his message was straight from the Heavenly Father himself.

  “When?” Her question was simple, but her husband understood her perfectly.

  “Tonight.”