The Meek Shall Inherit

by MimiLuvs16

Nasira Grant, a natural born member of the Dauntless faction, appears to be the least expected member of the faction. She's an introvert, who prefers the grand silent halls of libraries instead of sparring rooms. It has earn her the nickname "Meek the Mouse". So what happens when she is involved in a 'love square' with a Dauntless leader? COMPLETE

5. Chapter 5

*waves forlornly*

Hello again.

*sighs* Okay, so here it is: The second part for the last chapter on this story.

I would to give a big and heartfelt 'Thank you' to all of the people who have read my story. To the people who left reviews (I've read them all and I've saved them in my computer as well). To the people who have "favorite" this story as well.

In this chapter, Eric is completely OOC and non-canon to both the stories and to the film adaptations.

Warning: This story has been Rated M, for adult language, adult content and for very smutty Lemon (a person PM'ed me, asking me to write smutty lemon… so here it is!). So, please, No children under 16 years of age (I've being friggin' generous here) read this tale.

Disclaimer: This chica right here *points to self* don't own anything except for the O/C's that are mention. All of the characters from the Divergent Series belongs to Veronica Roth.

Once again… Thank you so much. Please Enjoy this chapter.

Please rate and/or review.

Her eyes did a frantic and clumsy survey of the other side of her bedroom. 'Chair… Hamper… Chest of drawers… Mirror… Closet—

As her brain whimpered the word, it appeared to have conjured him up. The white, French-styled, sliding door slid to the left. Behind the door was a void of darkness and a shape. Thoughts of a childhood Boogey-Man plagued her mind as she stared at the spectacle that was occurring. When she was a child, he had a fur and was ten feet tall. This particular Boogey-Man was a human male dressed in all-black clothes: a pair of fitted jeans, combat boots and a baggy hoodie with the hood covering his head. He stood in front of the rack of clothes with his left hand on the closet door's handle and his right hand holding onto the door frame.

Wide-eyed, she said "How long have you…? How long have you been in my closet?" Another inquiry popped up in her head. "How did you get into my apartment?"

There was a multi-second stream of silence. Then he spoke to her. "I know the key code to your door. I memorized it."

"How did you memorized it? I mean, when did you memorize my key code?"

"If you think very hard, I'm sure you will remember just how I remembered it," he taunted her.

"When did you come—?

"You were taking a bath, when I came in here," he reported.

There were footfalls against the bare wooden floorboards. Her eyes viewed his unveiling as he stepped out of the void of darkness and into the well-lit bedroom. Before she spied his appearance, she recalled the conversation that she had with Rogue, the recollection of the brawl that occurred in the leadership wing. She remembered the fact that Eric was bruised and bloodied by his girlfriend's ex-boyfriend. She didn't know what type of vision she was going to view.

He stepped into the bedroom and strolled up to the foot of her canopy bed. Out of instinct, she scooted a few inches closer to the head of the bed. His smug chuckle penetrated the atmosphere and spread out. His hands touched the fabric of his hood and he pushed at it, effectively revealing his face.

Nasira hoped that she kept the expression of surprise off of her face as she viewed his reveal. When she noticed the tightness around her eyelids, she knew that she failed. She was greeted by an image that she wasn't used to seeing from him. She expected to view a young man with a steely-eyed gaze, several cranium piercings and an outrageous haircut. What she received instead was a vision of a man. There was a steely-eyed gaze but there was a tinge of an unidentified emotion in his blue-grayish orbs. His jaw, chin, upper lip and cheeks were covered a layer of hair. In the fixed light, it appeared to be the color of auburn. The meticulous, highly-groomed and outrageous was no longer in place. In its place was a head full of hair that still kept an overall appearance of being well-kempt. Her line of sight also peeked at the several markings that marred his face: a horizontal scar that ran across the bridge of his nose, a thin one that hugged the curve outside of his left eye socket and the small percentage of scar tissue that his facial hair couldn't cover on his left cheek.

"Why…? Why…? Why are you here?" she questioned with a small voice and her eyes still heavily focused on his face's new features.

The faction leader doesn't respond to her inquiry. He, instead, grabbed a hold of the footboard and focused on the precious bundle that was laying across her lap.

Her eyes panned down on her baby, who was staring intently at the new man that appeared. 'Oh shit,' she silently sighed.

"He looks like me," she heard him breathe.

"Yes…Yes, he does," she muttered. She continued to eye the inquisitive little toddler as he stared at Eric. Silence clung to the bedroom as the trio stared at each other. The mother's skin prickled, as the tension mounted. Many notions and opinions ran through her mind during this time. 'What does he want from me? Does he want to take Lucien away from me? Does he plan on building a family with Anissa, by using my son? Why does he keep staring at Lucien like that? What the-fuck- does he want—?

"Ma-Ma!"

Her son's sharp cry snapped her out of her thoughts and skimmed down the thick tension that was in the bedroom. She glanced down at the boy. He was squirming on her lap and was attempting to wrestle out of her embrace. 'Oh!' Nasira assumed that Lucien wanted to sit up, so she released her maternal hold from around him. With a soundtrack of soft grunts, he sat up, on her lap. He rubbed at his eyes with his tiny, fat fists and then he peered at the man that stood at the foot of the board. A streak of babbles fell from his lips which was accompanied by an occasional giggle. The toddler pointed at Eric with his right index finger. He glanced at his mother from over his right shoulder. A stream of more talk flew out of his mouth.

A façade developed. With a smile on her face, she said "Yes, big boy…" She nodded her head. "… That's your daddy…" A pair of fat tears fell from her heavy eyelids and traveled down her cheeks. The façade suddenly cracked. "…That's your da-da," she informed the little boy.

A babbling Lucien turned back to his father, who still remained motionless and soundless at the foot of the bed. He spoke to Eric and he stopped. His hand dropped down to his side and then he deeply sighed. All of a sudden, he took off. With speed behind his crawling, he made his way over to the footboard.

"Lu—

She was about to fetch her son, but came to a halt when she caught the glower of blazing anger that burned in Eric's eyes. His jaw twitched in defiance. He gave her another second of intense glaring before he peeked down at the toddler, who now was sitting in front of him. The child's plump arms raised in the air as he talked to his father.

'Well, I'll be damned.'

She monitored Eric's reactions. He stared at the boy as if he was watching a new piece of machinery work for the first time. His fingers kept releasing and capturing the wood from its grasp.

"Ma-Ma," squealed Lucien.

She gazed at her baby, who was staring at her with an expression that read 'What's wrong with him?' She couldn't control the snicker that managed to escape from her mouth. Somehow, her son's gesture caused the tension that was stored in her, to splinter apart. Her eyes focused on Eric, who was intently staring at her. She felt the tension radiating off of him. She decided to smooth it out. "He wants you to pick him up, Eric" she told the would-be intruder.

She viewed the confused father as he stared down at his son. Lucien stared at him and raised his arms up again. She eyed Eric's hands. The fingers performed the same dance again with the wood.

'Come on, Eric, pick him up. Prove to me that you want him too.'

Lucien began to make sounds of fuss. She glanced at her son. He was beginning to make his frustration known with the erratic waving of his arms. She glanced at Eric's fingers which were squeezing the wood from the footboard.

'Come on, damn it. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up…'

Her dark brown eyes focused on the tall, silent man again. His eyes were glowering at the sign of their one-time union. His cheeks and forehead were developing a reddish tint to its skin. His nostrils were flaring.

'…Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up. Pick him up…'

Her eyes darted over to the toddler, who was now whimpering. His arms dropped down to their sides. He glanced over his right shoulder and stared at his mother. His full bottom lip was poked further out than his top lip. His dark grey eyes held a glossy sheen.

'Pick him up. Pick him— Got-damn it, Eric! Fucking damn you to hell.'

She forced a smile on her face and she stared at her son. "Come here, big boy," she softly sung to her son. She watched her son twist his upper body into her direction. His fat hands pressed into the down comforter. She saw his hands lift off of the comforter, and soon, the rest of his body.

'No—

Her chestnut-colored orbs stared at her son's pajama-clad legs kick at the air as he was carried through the tension-filled atmosphere. She stared at his tiny, fat bared feet press against the black, cotton sweatshirt. She saw a sleeved-up arm slipped underneath Lucien's diaper-clad booty. The sleeve rode up against the forearm and revealed a bit of a tattoo that was etched onto the flesh. A massive paw of a hand was pressed against the small back of the toddler, keeping him secured against the broad chest that belonged to the arms' owner. She stared at her son's small fat hands, hands she was sure was going to grow like his dad's. They were holding onto the fur-covered cheeks of the one man that managed to shock her once again.

Meanwhile the man was gazing down at his son with an unidentified glaze covering his eyes. She didn't have enough time to see them because the eyes' owner turned away from her. He turned his back to her and sat down on the edge of her bed.

"Ma-Ma! Ma-Ma! Ma-Ma!"

She watched Lucien's joyful face popped up, from over his father's left shoulder. His bright, dark grey eyes were focused on her. His lips unleashed an unrelenting stream of baby-talk. In between the millisecond-worth gaps between her son's words, she heard them. At first, she thought that it was a part of her imagination, maybe a case of wishful thinking. Then she eyed his back and shoulders and she saw it. She detected the rhythmic trembling that were dancing along the broad muscles and bone. He kept his voice low as he cried as to not alarm her son.

Their son. Lucien was their son now. Eric managed to do the one thing that she wanted: for him to prove to her that he wanted to be there.

'Well… I'll be damned.'

*~oMLo~*

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH! LOOK AT THE BABE-BEEEEE!"

The high-pitched squeal was followed by more squeals and then the sounds of a meager stampede of high heels against hardwood floor.

Nasira was smart enough to stand out of the way. She watched the small group of women ignore her as they made their way over to her mother and the main attraction. The women circled around Mrs. Grant as she displayed her grandson like he was a prized-winning puppy at a dog show. The women all tried to gain her son's attention. The young mom was pleased to see that the attention did not frighten her son.

"Ooh, what does his shirt say?" one of the secretaries asked.

"It says… OH! It says, 'Cute little stinker'!"

There was a symphony of laughter that came from the women. Nasira knew that her mother was feeling pleased with the choice of outfit. Mrs. Grant gifted her daughter with the outfit for Lucien. The outfit consisted of a black layette with a white front. On the back of the layette, there was a stubby tail and a white stripe going down the middle. On the front of the jumper, there were the words 'Cute little stinker'. The layette came with a black, skullcap that held a pair of animal ears.

Nasira and Lucien arrived to her mother's department in The Mind, which was on the eighteenth floor of the building. They arrived an hour and a half ago and they have been on the move since then. Her mom plucked the baby from his mother's arms and proceeded to show damn near everybody the baby. First, they visited every one of her mother's colleagues, fellow diplomats and their personal assistants. Then, they were introduced to every passerby that was in the corridors, including the maintenance crew. Now, they were in the employee lounge room, where they met up with the tribe of squealers.

As she watched the women hover, she bit down the urge to find an available chair and sit down, so she could take a nap. Nasira was tired and would do anything for a simple fifteen-minute nap at the moment. She did not get much sleep last night and it had nothing to do with Lucien. It had everything to do with his older, hairier doppelganger. After witnessing his moment of vulnerability, he sat there with their son in his arms. He didn't say anything to her or to their boy. He just stared at him. Lucien didn't mind. In fact, after a bit of persuasion, the child became comfortable in his father's arms and he fell asleep. He wrapped his tiny arms around his father's thick neck and rested his head on his left shoulder. She didn't interfere with the bonding moment until Eric asked for her help: he didn't know where to place Lucien. She told him to place the baby on the bed.

Once Lucien was safely tucked away underneath the blanket and barricaded with numerous pillows, Daddy turned his malevolent-hinged glare towards Mommy. A simple, 'We need to have a chat' was said and he sauntered out of the bedroom. Just like that, the 'Eric' that she knew had returned and was now in her home. She followed the leader into the living room, where he stood in front of her windows. She sat on the sectional and waited for him to make the initiative, when it came to the conversation. What followed was a conversation that was pregnant with terse whispers, thinly-veiled dislike towards each other and fair-to-unfair substantiated accusations.

Eric accused her of maliciously hiding the information about her pregnancy from him. Nasira accused him of being a violent being that was capable of killing her and their unborn son. He blatantly denied that accusation. He accused her of going to try to 'poison's their son's mind' with false stories about him, as the child grew up. She damned near shrieked out her denial, at him. Then, she told him that she didn't want his girlfriend around their son. It was her first moment of acknowledging his paternity. He just glowered at her. He accused her of trying to keep him away from being a father to their son. She didn't deny that accusation because it was true. But, when he accused her of hiding the boy's paternity because she was ashamed of his station in life, ever since she was a Dauntless-born, who was a part of a legacy. She vehemently denied it. At that moment, she realized that it was the second time that she had seen his vulnerability.

Eric left her apartment, shortly afterwards. But not before he made the promise of visiting her apartment on the next day. They didn't even reach a level of agreement and complicity. When she had gone to bed that night, she realized that the 'next day' was already there.

"Nassy! Let's go!"

"Hmmm?" Nasira sleepily hummed.

"Let's go up to the leadership wing and introduce Max to Bunchie!" her mother eagerly suggested.

The statement was like a shot of adrenaline for the young mother. Nasira's sense of fatigue was gone and she was filled with energy. Fear and anxiety would do that a person.

'Wait—What?! No. No. No…'

"Um Mommy, shouldn't we…? Shouldn't we leave Max alone?!" she suggested as she followed her mother.

"Max has asked me about the baby several times and now he has the opportunity to meet him—

"But, he may be in a meeting or—

"He is not in a meeting right now. He's in his office, having his lunch," the Grant matriarch reported.

"But he might want to enjoy his lunch break alone and not being bothered by a crazy lady with an adorable baby!" reasoned Nasira.

"So this shouldn't take long. Hurry up!" Mrs. Grant poked at the button, summoning the elevator.

'Damn this woman!' she silently cursed. 'Please Max, please don't be in your office.'

The elevator arrived. Mrs. Grant and Lucien entered the carriage first. Nasira thought about making a run for it, but she knew that she wouldn't get too far. For one, she was wearing a floor-length halter dress and sandals. Plus there was the diaper bag. And two, she was sure that her mother would've summoned a Dauntless patrolman to zap her with his taser until she was rendered immobile. Regrettably, she hopped on the elevator's carriage and then watched the doors closed.

"Besides, I called Max this morning and he is expecting our visit! He's excited to meet Bunchie…" She held Lucien out, in front of her. She eyed the boy's smiling face. "…He's excited to meet you, Bunchie! Yes, he is!" The elevator was filled with the baby's giggles.

Her mother continued to make baby-talk while her son continued to coo, as well as, laugh. The trio stepped off of the elevator onto the eighth floor. Like before, Nasira followed her mother as the older woman disregarded the front desk receptionist and continued her traveling. 'Please, don't be there, Max' she silently wished. 'Please Max, please let your ass be in Erudite somewhere, talking about landmines or potholes or ostriches or lakes and rivers or—

"Is this him?! Is this the ladies' man that I've been hearing about?!" she heard Max's exuberant baritone announce.

'FFFFFFFuc-Uck!' She briefly grimaced after hearing Max's jovial voice. She quickly fixed her face and then added a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Max, the Dauntless leader of all leaders, was standing in the threshold of the entrance to his office. He held a look and was in a mood that would've been considered rare emotion, by any other Dauntless member. But this man was her godfather and a close family friend, so it wasn't an odd occurrence. He held a wide smile on his face while his arms were outstretched. The leader's aura was bleeding happiness.

"Is this him?! Is this Luke?!" he said cheerily. His eyes were focused on the squealing, happy toddler that was returning the stare.

"This is my Bunchie," her mother laughed with delight. The older Grant handed her grandson off to the leader. Max gladly accepted the baby. "Now, watch out, he's heavy—

"Heavy? Yes! Yes, he is!" Max agreed. "But that means that he is going to be big and strong…"

'Like his father,' Nasira thought.

"…I can tell he is gonna be one of the baddest Dauntless men in history…" At this moment, Lucien cooed and smiled a wide grin. "Yes, you're gonna be one tough son-of a-gun. Yes, you are, my dude!" Then suddenly the baby's face grimaced. "Uh-oh, what's wrong, dude?"

"Uh-oh," her mother groaned while eying the child.

"He's probably needs a changing," Nasira informed the both of them. "I know that he is not hungry or sleepy." She walked up to Max and Lucien. The leader handed the baby to her.

"Hey Nassy, I didn't see you there," he told her, teasing her.

She laughed. "Don't feel bad, I'm used to it. I've been invisible since we arrived," she reported. She asked the leader if there was a nearby bathroom or a private room that she could use. He informed of an unoccupied office-suite that was across the hallway from his office. She thanked him and informed her mother that she would try to make the visit short. She left her mother conversing with the leader.

Upon entering the office, she took a look around. The office was bare of any personal effects. There was a simple wooden desk, rolling chair and a desktop computer set. On the other side of the room, there was two leather chairs and a small coffee table. The floor was covered with a thin, cheap brown carpet. The curtains were made from similar fabric. 'I guess it's the leader who adds the stylish furniture.' She turned to the door and locked it. She strolled over to the desk and stood in front of it. She recalled the time when she stood in front of Eric's desk, back when she was still pregnant.

"Alright, big boy," she stared down at her son. "Let's get that dirty diaper off of you." She placed the toddler on top of the desk. The diaper bag was sat next to him. Immediately, he started to paw at the bag's fastenings. She chuckled because she knew that he would do it. "What is it with you and the fact that you hate sitting in a dirty diaper?" she said to her son.

The mother quickly changed her son's diaper and tossed the soiled one in the trash can that was next to the desk. She redressed the boy and then picked him up. His head automatically landed on her right shoulder. His hand began to paw at her left breast.

"Someone's getting sleepy," she gently teased. He rhythmically patted at her breasts. "Yup, you're getting sleepy."

The sound of the doorknob turning penetrated the room. Her nerves grew on edge. She quickly spun around to view the intruder. A familiar sight entered the room. She deeply exhaled and immediately relaxed.

"What are you doing here?" he questioned.

She noted the authoritative tone in his voice. 'He must be in his work mode,' she figured. "I just finished changing your son's diaper and now he is on his way to going to sleep." She stared at Eric as he made his way over to where she was standing. His eyes were focused on their son as he walked over. Nasira stared at the sign of their one-time experience. Lucien's eyelids were fluttering, a sign that he was fighting sleep.

"Why are you up here in the leadership wings?" asked Eric.

She glanced at him. "My mom wanted to show Lucien off to her co-workers. Then she decided to bring him to see Max—

"Max?"

Her eyes snapped back to his face once she heard the tone in his voice. It was caked with suspicion and distrust. She did a curt head nod. "Yes, that Max."

"Why?" he asked with a tightened jaw.

"Because Max is a close friend to my family. In fact, he is my godfather," she informed him. She detected the glint fade out of his eyes. "Why? What's up with that 'third degree'?"

"It wasn't a 'third degree'. I just wanted to know why you were up here," he told her.

"What other…" Then she realized his assumption. "…Ohhh, now I get it."

"Get, what?"

A smile graced her lips. "You assumed—

"I don't assume—

"You assumed that my mom and I had come up here to tell your superior officer that you knocked me up," she informed him.

"No. I didn't," he calmly protested.

She laughed. "Ssssuuuuurrrrreeeee, you didn't" she drawn out.

Both parents turned their heads towards the door, when they heard sounds of the knob turning. Eric performed a spirited sprint across the office to the other side, to the leather chairs and the small wooden coffee table.

It was her mother. "Nassy, did my little Bunch—Oh! Hello, Eric!"

"Good afternoon, ma'am" she heard Eric greet her mother. "How are you on this…?"

At this point, Lucien's tiny hand gave his mom a firm slap against her collarbone. 'You're really fighting this sleep thing.' She patted his back in a soothing manner. She re-joined the conversation.

"Eric, have you met my Bunchie yet?" her mother stated.

Nasira's eyes widened in surprised. She eyed her mother and then Eric. He sat in the brown leather chair, giving her mother a clueless look.

"No. No. No, I haven't" he answered her.

Mrs. Grant approached Nasira. "Nassy, let Eric hold onto Bunchie, so I could take…"

Both Eric and Nasira stared at her mother. Eric even shot out of his chair. Both parents protested to the idea.

"Mom, I don't think…"

"No Mrs. Grant, I don't think…"

The matriarch removed Lucien from her daughter's embrace. The baby made a brief fuss, but calmed down as soon as he was placed in the leader's strong arms.

"Now see…" Mrs. Grant gushed. "…He knows that he is in safe hands!" She continued to stare at her grandson and the young leader. She produced her cell phone from her blazer's pocket. She held the phone's camera up. "Alright-y… Look at me... Say 'cheese'!" Instead of smiling, Eric remained stoic and tight-lipped. Mrs. Grant snapped the photo, which was followed by several more in succession. She glared at the two. She slipped her phone back into her blazer. "So…" She started out saying. She crossed her arms over her chest. "How does it feel to be a 'daddy', Daddy?" Mrs. Grant asked him.

'Wha-What?!' Nasira gazed over at her mother with her eyes bulging.

Mrs. Grant glanced at both parents and then smiled. "What? You guys thought that I didn't know?" She glimpsed again. "You actually believed that I didn't know?!" she said with amusement. She laughed. She looked straight at her daughter. "I've always known! I've known ever since the day you told me that you were pregnant. I should've known earlier than that, if I would've remembered that night y'all danced. You know, on the night of the Diplomatic Banquet? Y'all chemistry was very…heated."

"Chemistry, what chem—?

"Chemistry?" her mother asked with a lift of eyebrow. "You two had plenty of chemistry on that night. To the untrained eye, people would've assumed that it was you and Malachi. But me?" She tapped her chest. "I knew. I knew when I saw y'all two dance to my song. And then when he offered to take you home, I should've known that you two would've ended up screwing like rabbits."

She grimaced. She ran her hand over her face. "Mmmmmoooooooommmmmm," she groaned.

"And besides, my Bunchie looks just like Eric," Mrs. Grant told her. She walked over to Eric and plucked the baby from his arms. "Now what I am trying to understand is why there wasn't a formal announcement made and why he wasn't the one holding your leg during Bunchie's birth?" This time, she glowered at Nasira.

Eric decided to speak. "I didn't know about Lucien's birth until last night. But I did have my instincts. I asked her and she said that he belonged to someone else."

Mrs. Grant did not say anything. She just glared at Nasira, which caused the daughter's skin to shiver. For the younger Grant woman, she felt like she was a child again and she was being scolded. After a tense moment, the older woman stared at Eric.

"Now that you know about Lucien, what are your plans?" her mom asked.

"I am going to be a dad. No one is going to stop me from doing so," he promised the both of them.

Mrs. Grant walked over to Eric and handed the baby to Eric. Softly, she said, "Hold him. The more you touch him, the more y'all bond". She walked to the center of the room. "So, someone mentioned meeting up last night, so y'all did manage to talk?" She intensified the level of eye contact between the both of them. "You did just talk, right? I mean, I love my Bunchie to death, but I don't think he needs a brother—

"We just talked, ma'am" Eric filled her in.

"It's more like he nagged me and got me angry," added Nasira.

Her mother glared at her. "Right now, I am so pissed off at you that I don't care," her mom told her.

'Well… Damn.'

Mrs. Grant looked at Eric. "Will my grandson bear your name?"

"Yes," he stated. The conviction in his voice caused a lump to form in her throat.

"We've…" Both pairs of eyes stared at her. "…decided to keep things quiet."

Her mother threw a look of mortification on her face. "Why?!" She pointed to Eric. "He's a got-damned leader, for flipping sake! Bunchie is his firstborn! It should be a momentous occasion!"

"I'll explain later, mom" she harshly whispered.

"But—

"I'll explain later!" she snapped, letting the older woman know that she would not change her mind.

Her mother gave her pointed look. "Later." She glanced at Eric. "Eric, sweetie, it was nice to see you again." She walked up to her grandson and gave him a kiss. She stepped away. She glanced, as well as, pointed at both parents. "I'll leave y'all alone, so you can talk. I have to go back to work." After she stated so, she sauntered out of the office.

Nasira let out a rough exhalation as she dropped back against the edge of the desk. Immense relief flooded her core.

"You know that your mom was right. You know this."

She glowered at her son's father. He gingerly sat back down in the chair. He relaxed his large form and helped his son spread out his coiled up limbs. He placed a protective hand over his son's bottom. The sight of the father and son caused Nasira to lose control of her breathing. Her lungs felt like ten-pound weights were inside of her chest. Her cheeks blushed to the point where she experienced buzzing underneath her skin.

Nasira saw his lips move. "What did you say?"

Eric took a deep swallow. She saw his tattoos shake against the movement. He eyed her. "I said, why do you want no one to know about me being Lucien's father? And I want to know the truth."

'Shit.' Nasira did a hard swallow. She lifted her chin in defiance. "I told you the truth already."

Eric lip curled into a snarl. "Bullshit." He rested the back of his head against the chair's back. "I'm waiting for an explanation."

"Don't you have to return to work?" she countered.

"I am on my lunch break. I have another hour to hang out," he informed her. He rubbed their son's back. "I'm waiting."

'Really? You're waiting? Well… Fuck it!'

She committed an act of a nervous tick, which was licking her lips. Then she spoke. "I don't like certain elements that you allow yourself to be surrounded by." She pressed further. "I don't want our son around them."

"And who would these elements be?" he said, quizzically.

"Think. Use those Erudite genes of yours, Eric?"

Silence permeated the office while Eric tossed several possibilities in his mind. An occasional wave of Lucien's loud snoring passed through.

"OH! OH! HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" he chuckled after a while. "Are you serious?!" He lifted his head up and glared at her. "Anissa? Is that who you are referring, my girlfriend?"

She didn't like his reaction. She found it to be insulting. "Yes, she is the one that I am talking about."

"Anissa is harmless," he pointed out.

"Said the person who spent over three years being strung along by her," she snapped. She viewed the sense of joy leave his face. It was replaced by a sheer anger. She knew that he was angry, but she didn't care. "If you haven't notice, your girl's moral meter is fucking faulty. Plus she gives off the vibe that she must be the top priority in your life or else she won't be happy. I won't trust her around our son."

"So what are you saying?" growled Eric. "One day that woman will be my wife."

"I don't give a shit if you end up marrying her, Eric! I don't want him around her. I'm not saying that I don't want you to be his father. I do want you…To be there for him. But I don't her trust her. But that woman has your nose so-fucking-wide open that I am worried for you!"

'THERE! I SAID IT!'

Eric just gave her a glare while his jaw twitched. His blue eyes zeroed in on her face. Her face grew hot, from being under his hostile inspection. His eyes drifted down to the top of the costumed baby. "I will let nobody hurt him… Including, her."

Nasira leaned against the desk, she glared at Eric. "If Lucien has even one bruise or one scratch on him… And I hear news that that bitch has been around him… I will rip her throat out!"

"If that is the case, then she will be dead and in the bottom of the Chasm before that thought crosses your mind," he promised.

She should've felt comfort, or even relief, at hearing his promise. But she didn't believe it. Not when his eyes didn't have the glow of conviction.

*~oMLo~*

"It is 'later' now. I want an explanation."

Nasira leaned up against the doorframe. "Hi, Mom. Would you like to come—?

"Of course, I would like to come inside of your home!"

The daughter stepped to the side and allowed her mother into the apartment. Once inside, her mom's old training kicked in and her eyes deftly scanned the room. Her eyes landed on the jubilant baby who was sitting in his walker.

"Bunchie!" she squealed. She galloped over to the baby. Her kitten heels tapped against the polished, hardwood floor. Once she gathered the body in her arms, she asked Nasira about dinner plans.

"I am about to make steak and potatoes. Would you like to join me for dinner?"

"It depends on two things: what kind of wine do you have and how are you making that steak?"

"I have both red wine and white wine in the fridge. And I am using the oven's broiler to make the steak," she informed her mom as she marinated the raw meat.

"Medium rare?" her mom asked with a knowing glint in her brown eyes.

"It's the only way," she said with a smile. The woman laughed.

"Okay, so spill it, young lady" her mother demanded, once the laughter simmered down.

"You don't want to wait un—

"Nasira Hippolyta Grant, if you don't tell me this—You're already treading on thin ice with me," her mother warned her.

Nasira responded with a pout.

"And the pouting won't work with me," her mother reported. "I may be old and a bit broken from my cancer fight, but I will kick your ass!"

The younger Grant laughed, which led to her son mimicking her.

"Alright-alright, now spill it."

So, Nasira did. She told her mother about her interaction with Eric, in the unclaimed office, after she left. She gave a description of Anissa and Patrick's old relationship. She withheld information about her plan with Eric. Her mother would've definitely taken her over her aging knee.

"So let me get this straight: you think that Eric is a simp?" her mother uttered before taken a sip of her wine. She caught the look of surprise on her daughter's face. "Don't look at me like that! You think that your generation had come up with that word? Let me tell y'all something: y'all didn't. 'Simp' has been around for centuries."

"Thanks for the history lesson, Mom" she said with a smile.

In retaliation, Mrs. Grant tossed her balled up napkin at her daughter. "Now back to what I was saying. You believe that our leader Eric Coulter is a simp for a woman and you think that this woman is a psycho?"

Nasira picked up her glass of water. "It's more like sociopath. Or borderline personality disorder, at least," she corrected her mother before drinking.

"I see someone has been talking to Malachi," her mother said with an amused smile.

"Actually, I always believed this about her. Malachi just provided me with the correct lingo."

"And you think this girl is capable of hurting Bunchie?"

"No doubt about it," she told her mom.

"Do you really believe that Eric would allow for that to happen?"

"That's the thing: I believe he wouldn't tell me. He'll lie and say that Lucien fell or he accidentally bump his head. Or he would ignore the 'red flags'. I don't want to take any chances."

"Now don't believe that I am trying to invalidate your feelings…"

'Damn it.' Nasira rolled her eyes and sighed.

"… But I am finding it hard to believe that our Dauntless leader would fall so easily for a woman. We're the faction of the brave. I've known this man since he was a scrawny boy that just escaped a life of neglect. Eric had gone through Hell during his initiation process. He managed to conquer his fears. He's…" Mrs. Grant shook her head. "I just can't see it for him. I'm sorry." Her mother severed a piece of charred meat with her knife. "Dauntless men…" She shook her head. "…can act like cavemen and like ladies' men. But as easily—

"And? Ma, please spare me the…" Nasira put an arch in her back so that her chest puffed out. Her arms had gone akimbo. In a deep, mockingly masculine voice, she said "Dauntless men are brave and fearless and we don't have feelings!" She returned to her normal voice. "Because it's a pack of lies. There's kids fighting to disregard their natural instincts and feelings because they don't want to be thrown out to the wild. Then you have the older Dauntless men. You know, the ones that hang out at The Snake Eyes Pub, drinking and reminiscing about the 'good ol' days', when they were able to beat the hell out of their families without prying eyes." She leaned against the table. "Just because we're taught to conquer our fears and face them head on, it doesn't mean that we won't gather weaknesses along the way. It's why you have a bunch of young kids trying to avoid making families." She leaned back in her chair. "Back when Eric was a skinny kid and was living in Erudite, he knew his girlfriend. They have a strong connection."

Mrs. Grant leaned back in her seat. She held her glass of wine. She was silent as she contemplated. "What's her name?" she said, after her moment.

"Her name is Anissa Howard," Nasira confessed. "And she works in the infirmary."

"Alright," the Grant matriarch murmured. "I'll have Atlas check her out, ever since she originally comes from Erudite. Plus he has access to the Bureau of Records."

"I thought Pollux do all of your dirty work for you."

"He does, but he's on vacation right now…" Her eyes drifted off to the space that was behind her daughter. "…Ummm, honey?"

"Yes?" Nasira hummed as she gathered some pieces of baked potato on her fork.

"I think Bunchie is making in his diaper," her mother informed her. She pointed over in the direction.

Nasira looked at her son. He sat in his rolling walker, several feet away. He was staring at the island counter. The mom took note of the bright pink tint that covered his face, as well as the look of deep concentration.

'Yup, he's pooping.' She turned to her mother. "Say grandma, wo—

Mrs. Grant raised her hands in mock surrender. "Us grandmas have special privileges now. We don't change dirty nappies. And judging by the look on his face, he is dropping a log in his underpants."

*~oMLo~*

Mrs. Grant made her departure shortly thereafter, which left Nasira and Lucien alone. The young mother and baby spent the remainder of the early evening, playing. Nasira decided to help her son practice his walking skills. She stood behind her son. She allowed his tiny hands to hold onto her fingers as they made steps around the living room. She supplied each of his efforts with encouraging words. As they walked around the back of the sectional, the front door suddenly opened.

'What-the-fuc—

Nasira's natural instincts kicked in before she could finish her thought. She quickly snatched up her toddler son and gathered him into her arms. The sudden action frightened her son and soon the living room was covered in cries. She didn't noticed her son's distressed state because she wanted to get as far away from the front door as quickly as she could. She ran across the living room to where the hallway's entrance was located. She stared at the front door. Her eyesight was flooded with the sight of her interloper, which was a familiar sight.

"What-the-fuck, Eric?!" she screamed as she approached him. Her shout managed to cut through Lucien's wails.

There, in her living room and a few feet in front of the door, stood Eric. He held an expression of confusion on his face. "What are you—?

"You just scared the hell outta me by barging in here like that!" she screamed at him.

"You should've known…" he pointed out.

"I should've known?! The only person…"

"…that it was me! Who else has the key code to your damn door besides me?!" he shouted.

"… The only damn person who should have this code is me because this is my home!"

"He is my son too!" he screamed at her.

"I know that, but it does not give you the right to enter my home whenever-the-fuck you feel like it!" she further explained, but in lower volume.

"Watch who you're talking to. If you haven't notice, I am a leader and you're superior officer," he warned her.

"I don't give a shit, if you're a leader! Your title don't mean anything to me…"

Suddenly Eric and his thunderous glare were a few inches in front of her face. Most would've been intimidated and would've backed down. Nasira didn't even flinch.

"…the moment you enter my home! Your role as Dauntless leader don't mean shit to him!" She bounced Lucien in her arms, illustrating her point.

Eric's eyes did a subtle twitch in their sockets. He stared at their crying son. At that moment, the crying babe reached out for him and swayed his body in his direction. The fire that was his anger extinguished in his eyes. He made a grab for his son. Nasira was tempted to pull away, but she knew that her action would've added more tension. She allowed Eric to handle their son. Once the hand-off was committed, she had taken a few steps away.

Nasira observed the father and son. More importantly, she wanted to see how Eric would react to Lucien's crying. She knew that Eric would have to interact with a crying Lucien, in the future. He needed to build up his patience and the tolerance for the boy's streak of crying. She watched their son clutch onto his father's hoodie with his fat little hands as he continued to cry. His cherubic face was stained with well-spent tears and redness from being unnecessarily stressed out. His dark gray eyes were focused on his face as if he was pleading with him.

The scene caused Nasira's heart to pound and for her gut to twist around with anxiety. Her maternal instinct of plucking the crying child away and consoling him was going into overdrive. It was to the point, where her legs were slightly trembling. They were ready to move, if need be. 'No. No. No. Allow Eric to start being a dad,' her conscience told her. 'If he needs help because he feels overwhelmed, then help him… By giving him suggestions. But he got to do this on his own.' Her line of sight flashed over the father's face. "He's scared…" Eric's cerulean orbs landed on her. "When I picked him up, I managed to scare him. So, you need to calm him down," she informed him.

The new father had gifted the mother with a sight that she was sure no one had seen before: an inept Eric. For Nasira, it was obvious that he didn't have any history of interactions with kids. A level of frantic was running off of him like it was static energy. His eyes also held a fringe of 'scared shitless'.

"He is scared from when I had picked him up," she reiterated. "So, in order for you to calm him down, you'll need to tell him that everything is fine and you also need to show him that everything is alright. Just…" She held her right hand out, in front of her with her palm facing Eric. "…rub his back…." She proceeded to use that hand to make invisible circles in the air. "…and also tell him, in a nice voice that everything is going to be fine. He'll calm down."

The father took a glimpse at his son. "Okay," he muttered. The hand that held him up to his chest, brought the baby closer to him. His other hand proceeded to massage Lucien's back in a slow, circular motion. His lips pressed into the baby's hairline and he began to utter soft statements. The child, in return, pressed the left side of his face against the front of Eric's apparel. The volume in his hysterical crying began to lower. It was working.

Nasira surveyed the scene for another minute. Once she heard Lucien's cries go from frantic and aggressive to whimpers, she felt confident enough to leave the duo alone. She had to complete another chore before she would send the baby to sleep. "I'll be back," she announced, using a softer and less hostile tone towards Eric.

His head snapped up and he glared at her. "Where are you going?" She detected his uncertainty in his voice.

The fact that Eric was revealing all of these acts of vulnerability to her, made her spirit glow, unexpectedly. She gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll be back. I have to give Luke his bath. I have to change my clothes and get his bath supplies. I won't be long. I promise." She extended her left hand in front of her, with her fingertips pointed to the couch. "You can have a seat, if you want to. You've probably been on your feet all day, I'm sure."

Eric gave her a simple head nod, as if it was granting her permission to leave the living room. She gave the father and son one last glance before traveling out of the room. She traveled to her bedroom first, where she slipped out of the ankle-length, peach-colored dress that she was wearing. She threw on a pair of black, spandex pants and a frumpy tee-shirt. Then she traveled to the bathroom to gather up the baby's toiletries.

When she arrived back to the living room, thirteen minutes later, she was welcomed by a serene sight. Eric was relaxed and lounging on her couch. Lucien was sitting on lap and was facing him. On the baby's face was a wide smile that highlighted the four incisors that were in his mouth. There were shrieks of jubilance along with rounds of laughter coming from the ten-month old. He was eyeing his father's hands, which were playing with the drawstring that was attached to the hood of his sweatshirt. Her eyes caught the sight of a thin smile on Eric's face. She sensed that the jovial gesture wasn't a pure one. He was holding back. But it was a smile nevertheless.

'There's hope, Nassy. Just have some hope,' her conscience reminded her. Nasira performed her own little smile before she turned away and strolled into the kitchen. Then she started to use the sink in preparation for Lucien's bath.

*~oMLo~*

"…about his birth," Eric stated after her laughter died down.

With a smile still etched on her face and a glow still tattooed on her skin, she proceeded to give her account about their son's birthday. "It was quick…" she said, with remnants of her laughter still in her voice. She tucked her feet underneath her bottom and sat on the couch in a new pose. "…It wasn't like anything that you'll see in those old-timey films. On the day that he was born, I had spent the whole day teaching. I had four classes on that day, I think. I remember that my back was hurting me all day. I thought that I was just having back pains like I always had, around that time. It was really my contractions. Thank God, I was able to drive home because as soon as I stepped out of my jeep, my water broke…" She laughed as she remembered fondly of that day. "It really didn't take long. I arrived home a little bit after seven o' clock that evening. Right before sundown, I remember. He was born approximately at 9:08 that night. It felt like I did three pushes and he came out." She looked at her son, who was asleep on his father's chest. "When he was born, it was the scariest moment of my life," she confessed.

"Why? What happened?" he asked, with unbridled concern lace in his voice.

She stared at the tall and usually intimidating man that laid on her chaise lounge. She observed the pair of blue eyes and saw it. 'Yup, there it is' she silently hummed. Despite the genuine concern swirling in his orbs, she felt intimidated. She stared down at their sleeping son. "It was scary because I realized that I was going to be responsible for another human being. That everything that he will do, in his life, will be tied to me and how I raise him. I was going to be the first woman in his life and I was going to be his first example of how to treat a woman. So, I knew that I had my work cut out for me…" She waved her hand in the air. "…Then I completely forgot about all of that, when my midwife placed his naked, crying self on me…With his little, lop-sided head."

"Lop-sided head?"

She eyed the quizzical expression on his face. She chuckled. In the midst of her laughter, she unintentionally caressed his forehead, before her hand fell back into her lap. "It…It was lop-sided because when he… Passed through, his head had to conform to the shape of my cervix," she explained to the best of her capabilities. She viewed his face and still saw the expression on his face. She giggled. "Babies are very pliable when they're born. Their bodies are very flexible, in order to survive in the womb and to be born. He was a big baby too, so I really had to work."

"How—?"

"How much did he weigh, when he was born?" she queried, interrupting him. "He was ten pounds and nine ounces, when he was born…" She viewed the look of awe attach itself on Lucien's father's face. "…and he wasn't the biggest baby that was born in Amity. That honor goes to a thirteen-pound kid, who was born fourteen years ago. I did eventually meet that kid and he was hhhhhuuuuggggeeeee!" She tilted her head. "When it comes to Luke, I wasn't surprised that he was a big baby, after all…"

Nasira stared at her fellow couch hoarder, who sat on her left side. He was reclining on the chaise lounge section, with a large decorative pillow propped up against his head. He was stripped down to his baggy sweatpants that were soiled with spots of water. His sweatshirt, socks and shoes were in the process of air-drying, due to being soaked with bathwater. She also had to change again due to being excessively splash by water and soap suds.

"…his daddy isn't a small man himself."

Eric's eyes focused on her, mischief in his orbs. A small smile appeared. "In more ways than one," he quipped.

She rolled her eyes and chuckled. "You know what…" She wanted to throw a pillow at him, but Lucien was in the way. So, she flipped him off. A throaty chuckle filled the room.

A wave of silence flooded the living room. During this time, both parents listened to their son's soft snoring. Nasira stretched her body on the couch and she rolled onto her stomach. Her head was a few inches away from Eric's resting one. A strong sense of relaxation flooded her bones, a feat that she believed would've never happen with Eric in the same vicinity. The gravity of the situation did not go unnoticed by Nasira. But she quickly came up with an answer for it. 'It was the crying session that done it.'

"Why did you name him after me?" questioned Eric, disrupting the simple but tranquil moment.

It was true; she indeed named her son after Eric. 'Lucien', 'Luke' and even 'Bunchie' weren't the boy's actual name. His birth name, the name that was recorded in the Bureau of Records, was 'Eric Lucien Grant'. Before she was placed in the situation in which she was pregnant, she always carried the belief that she would name her firstborn son after their father. She still felt the same way, even after the ultrasound technician informed her of the unborn child's sex, during her second trimester appointment. Her stance in naming her son after his father became staunch, when she came to the conclusion that this particular 'Eric' would become a better man than his father.

"Well…" She sighed. "…I always believed in the concept of the firstborn son being named after his father. You weren't going to change my mind, even if you act like a dickhead from time to time." She rested her left cheek on the backs of her hands. She stared at the island counter that was several feet away, in the kitchen. "Tell me about yourself," she said softly.

"Why do you want to know?" There was a sense of distrust and caution in his voice.

She rolled her eyes. There was a thread of mild irritation. She kissed her teeth as she raised her head, neck and shoulders from off of the couch. She used her arms' strength to keep her up. She gazed down at the man that was presented before her.

"Eric...I know that you feel like you're protecting yourself, by being mysterious and withholding information from me. But, in order for us to be…" She paused. She contemplated for an appropriate word to use. "In order for us to be great parents and copacetic towards each other, we do need to talk freely with each other…" Her eyes scanned the scarred up profile of his handsome face. "…I need to know some stuff about you because it teaches me how to feel comfortable around you..." She stamp down on the urge to trace the markings with her fingernails. "…I don't want to know this stuff, so I could use it against you. I want to know stuff because I want to know this stuff. I guess…" She sighed. "I guess what I am trying to say is, I would like to know this stuff because I want to know what made you into the man that I'm seeing now."

"When are you returning to work?" he suddenly asked. She detected a trace of emotion in his voice. It was a benevolent energy surrounding him, so she knew that he wasn't angry.

She also detected his attempt at deflecting. She pursed her lips and she gave him a downwards glance. "I'll be returning back to work next month, on the fifteenth. So, I'll be home with Lucien for a while."

"What about when you return to work, who will be taking care of him?" he inquired.

"I'm looking into that as we speak. My mother said that she knows someone who's perfect for the position. I haven't met her yet. I will," she informed him. "Why you want to know? You want to watch him while I'm at work?" she jested. The image of the intimidating faction leader pushing a stroller-riding Lucien through Dauntless while issuing out orders to initiates, popped up in her mind. The imagined scenario made her laugh.

"You know that I can't watch him. I'm a leader…" When her laughter became louder, he asked "What?"

In between giggle breaks, she gently clasped the top of his head and she brought her lips close to his right temple. "Eric, I was just joking with you and the fact that you actually thought that I was being serious makes it even funnier," she explained.

His lips performed a slight pucker while irritation flashed before his eyes, in response.

"Oh goodness, your son does the same thing when he's mad at me," she pointed out.

He briefly lifted up his head to glimpse at the baby. "Oh yeah?" He did a sideway glance at the mother. "What else does he do?"

Once again, she noticed his attempt at deflecting. 'He thinks that he's slick with his distractions.' She smiled. "There are moments when he reminds me of you, too-too much. If he doesn't want to do something, he'll give me this long stare and he'll look so annoyed. He can get into a mood where he doesn't want to be bothered, so he'll crawl into a corner of a room and he'll sit there until he's good and ready. He can definitely be a loner." Her right index finger tapped the cushion near his ear. "Alright Mr. Coulter, now answer my question. Tell me about yourself."

A glare of annoyance flashed across his face. His head turned away from her visual inquisition. He remained tight-lipped for a minute. "What do you want to know?"

"I don't know," she answered with a shrug of her shoulders. "Tell me anything."

"I don't want to tell you anything, how's that?"

'Ohhh, so when he is not acting like a robot, he acts like a smart-ass. Okay, that's one thing that I know about you, Eric. Well, this and the stuff that Malachi's told me.'

"Tell me about Anissa," she suggested.

"I thought that you didn't like her," he pointed out, throwing her previous claims back in her face.

"I don't," she stated so matter-of-factly. "I just want to know the info that only pertains to you. Like, how did you guys meet? Where did you guys meet? You told me once that y'all were from Erudite and y'all have history, so…" She shrugged her shoulders. "…That's a start."

Eric sighed and then turned his head, facing the ceiling. "We've met…" His brow furrowed. "…When we were kids. I say, when we were about twelve years old. We both were hanging out by the old piers, playing hooky from school. She had her reasons for being there and I had mine."

"What were your reasons for playing hooky?" she asked as she changed her position on the couch again. She settled onto her left side with her back gently pressed against the back of the couch and her hand propping up her head. "It would seem that playing hooky in Erudite would be a hard thing to do."

"Not when you fall into a particular station in life," he simply stated.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?" Unintentionally, her right hand trailed across the cushion to the destination of Eric's hair. Her fingers did playfully sweeps through the soft strands. Tonight, his hair wasn't styled in its usual, art-deco inspired coif. It was untainted with styling products, and for Nasira, surprisingly curly.

"In Erudite—And I heard that Candor does this as well—there is a caste system. It's never mentioned outright, but if you were to reside in both factions, you'll see it." He made a very audible exhale. "And if you fall into the wrong caste, you'll definitely experience it."

"What kind of…caste system are we talking about?" she asked, feeling intrigue with this new subject about a sub-culture that she knew very little about.

"In Erudite, there is a caste system that is based off of a person's level of intelligence. To put it bluntly, the dumb people are at the bottom of the totem while the smart ones are at the top. The ones in the middle are the people who have the average level of intelligence. The 'dumb people' are the servants, the housekeepers, the street cleaners, the garbage men, the plumbers and people who have jobs that no one else wants. If you haven't notice, there aren't any people with mental disabilities in Erudite. There's a reason for that. People say that Dauntless is the worst place to be in, but that's not true. We're just the one that doesn't have the better P.R. person. You know those statistics that comes out of Erudite all of the time?"

She nodded her head. "Yup."

"Don't you think that it is kind of… odd at how Erudite is always the brightest, the healthiest, smartest, the…sexiest or whatever? Every once in a while, they'll throw Candor a bone by putting them at the top of a few lists. It's all bullshit."

"Careful there, Leader Coulter" she warned, in jest. "You're starting to sound like an anarchist."

He faced her. A smile tugged at his lips. "I thought you said that my leadership title don't mean shit to you," he pointed out.

"No, I said that your leadership title don't mean anything to me, once you step foot into my home. When I see you out in public, you are Dauntless Leader Coulter to me. But the moment you stepped foot into my home, you will always be Eric, the man…" She released a tiny hint of a smile. "…And that part of you, will always be more worthwhile to me," she confessed. "And I—

Nasira wasn't able to finish expressing her opinion. Eric's lips cut off the rest as they abruptly pressed up against her in the form of a kiss. Her eyes widened while her heart pounded against her chest and continued to pump adrenaline into her body. Her right hand stopped playing with his hair and clasped onto his skull. "Mmmmmppphhhh!" she grunted against his mouth. She attempted to pull away from him, but his hand shot out and grabbed the back of her neck, drawing her back to his lips. 'Eric,' her brain whimpered in alarm. 'He has a girlfriend! He has a girlfriend now! The one that he wanted.'

She was able to free herself from his affections, when her right hand clasped onto his throat and she pulled away. She was about to pulled back, when she blurted out "You—Anissa, she's your girlfriend now. You have a girlfriend," in a terse but hushed tone.

Without a pause of hesitation, he remarked with "But, I want you".

The conviction in his voice made her body throb with uncertainty. Her body desired him as well, but his current relationship status made him unavailable. 'You're acting like his relationship was created out of something that was pure,' the uninhibited side of her whispered. 'Your baby was conceived during the time, when he was sooo in love with the woman.'

She subtly shook her head at him. "You have a girlfriend and I'm not the kind of woman who is going to be happy with just pieces of you," she whispered against his lips. 'You don't have to wait, you know. Eric… You can find some good uses for him. Just treat him like those guys treated you. Just use him until someone better comes along. He has a girlfriend…'

"I need you, baby" he whispered against her plump mouth before planting a soft kiss.

'…that he wants. She'll keep him busy. And if Rouge's right, you should have plenty of suitors waiting in the wings.'

There was another kiss to her lips. "I need you, baby" he repeated.

With a soft moan, she dropped her resolve and her lips sought after his. Her hand grabbed a hold of a tuft of his soft curls as she deepened the kiss. The tip of her tongue shyly asked for admittance, by tracing the edge of his top lip and the scar that marred the skin. He accepted her offer with vigor.

The union was disrupted by the sound of a sharp yet innocent sigh. Both parents separated with a quickness. Two pairs of alarmed yet cautious eyes stared at the precious bundle that was laying on his chest.

"The kid needs to go to bed," Eric announced, while staring at their son. "Where is his room?" A second later, he stared at her. "Please, tell me he is still not sleeping your bed," he stated with a sense of urgency.

Nasira hopped up from the couch. "I'll take him," she offered. Without waiting his response, she bent over Eric to pluck up their sleeping son. Lucien began to gently fuss as he slept, but she soothed him with kind words and a kiss. She had taken a few steps away from the couch before staring down at Eric. Then her eyes caught the sight of the slight hill that formed in the center of his pants. Her eyes scanned his face again and found a cocky, lazy smile while his eyes glowed a lust-fueled sheen. Her body released a pulse of anticipation. "Meet me in my bedroom," she whispered and then pointed her chin in the direction of the hallway.

She walked away from the couch and across the living room to the hallway. Lucien's nursery was located on the left side of the hallway, directly across from the bathroom. She entered the boy's bedroom, where she placed the child in his crib. She draped a soft blanket over his prone form. "Have a good night, baby. I love you," she whispered to him as he slept. She rubbed his little potbelly in a soothing manner.

"Puppies and…trains?"

Nasira glanced at the nursey's entryway and found Eric's bulky form taking up space. His arms were folded across his impressive chest while his eyes scanned the bedroom's décor. There was amusement marking his face.

"When I was still pregnant, I couldn't make up my mind about where I wanted to go. I must've been bugging my mother about it, and in turn, she must've been bothering my brothers about my indecisiveness, because they all shown up here one day and decorated the room," she told him as she did her own survey of the bedroom. She gave her son one last glance before powering up his monitor and night-light. She exited the nursery with Eric trailing behind her.

As they walked towards her bedroom, the master bedroom suite, he stroked the fires that was her arousal by being affectionate. His thick left arm casually wrapped itself around her middle, effectively making his body brush up against hers as they strolled. His lips would reached down occasionally to plant soft kisses on her neck and shoulders. By the time the two parents reached her bedroom's entrance, she was dealing with a full-fledge fiery inferno.

Once inside of her bedroom, she intentionally parted from Eric and his ministrations, to walk to the right side of the bed. With the flick of one bedside lamp's switch, she turned on both lamps. As she strolled back over to the man that caused her body to throb and over-heat, her fingers found the thin straps to her peach-colored dress. She peeled the straps off of her shoulders and let the fabric go, so it could slither down her body. She casually stepped out of the fabric.

He was still dressed in his sweatpants as she approached him. His fingers did traced the edge of the waistband, a meager attempt at a tease. He kept an unwavering stare locked on her as she sauntered up to him. Her hands automatically held onto his broad shoulders. Her lips sought his and placed a gentle kiss, an act of testing the waters. Before she could make the initiative in exploring, Eric took control. His left hand took a hold of her head while his right set of fingers clasped her chin. He displayed his passion for her by adding more force into his mouth's pulls and his tongue's licks. Her moans of appreciation flooded the bedroom.

With their mouths still locked together in an embrace, Eric guided Nasira to the king-sized canopy bed. They traveled to the foot of the bed where the edge of the footboard jammed up against the backs of her knees. She involuntarily collapsed onto the bed, breaking away from his affection. She collapsed onto the mattress with a song of laughter falling from her lips. She lain on the bed for a second, staring at him as he stood over her. Then she scooted further up the bed to the center. Her eyes still focused on him as she moved. In her peripheral view, she saw movement occur below his chest region. She figured that he removed his clothes.

Soon afterwards, he joined her on the bed and their mouths reunited. He wordlessly persuaded her to lay on her back while he stuck close to her right side. Eric's lips ushered in a conglomerate of sensations for her, in her. There were waves of heat that licked at her skin and made her muscles tight, including her weeping canal. His lips made a trail of arousal-laden kisses along her body. His warm and soft lips began its journey at her mouth and then traveled to her jawline, where he lined the edge with kisses. His face dipped down into the curve of her neck. His mouth's motives became more passionate and urgent. He nipped at the sensitive flesh and soothed the stinging with swipes from his tongue. He planted a family of kisses on her left shoulder and then with her collarbone. The tip of his tongue drew a line down from her collarbone to the valley of flesh that was in between her mounds. He turned his face slightly to the right, so his teeth could touch down on the inner curve of her left breast. The nip proved to be too much for her sore, nursing breast.

"Oh-ugh!" she moaned, while her back subtly arched. Her hands clasped his shoulders. She tilted her head so she could look at Eric. "Umm, Eric?" she moaned. She watched him pull away just a little. His left brow raised as his eyes peered at her. "They're…a little sensitive, baby. So you've got to be…patient with my girls down there," she warned.

A smoldering, growl-like chuckle fell from him and it caused her skin to become flush with heat. "You're still nursing?" he questioned. His face dipped low, hovering over her left tit. The tip of his tongue flicked her nipple. "I've noticed that you took out your piercings."

"I didn't think that it wouldn't have…" She paused when she felt his mouth did a strong pull at her nipple. A fiery line of arousal plucked at her clitoris in reaction. A trembling moan fell from her mouth as her eyes fallen shut.

"You like that?" he spoken into mound of flesh.

"Yessss," she hissed as her head lazily turned to the side. Then a slew of expletives fell from her as she felt his mouth awarded her with more pleasure.

His teeth gently nipped at the curves. Her tongue traced the rim of the darkened, plum-colored flesh that made up her areola. His lips kissed at her hardened nub, being mindful of its sensitive condition. He left her skin feeling tingly and with a ruddy complexion before his explorative mouth attached itself to her right breast. He provided this new sensuous territory with the same treatment. His tongue left trails of saliva on the heated skin while his teeth tantalized and teased. His mouth latched on the pleasure-infused nipple and he suckled. His left hand left its resting spot and squeezed at its outer curve.

Under the fog, she was aware of his actions and she knew what he was about to face, if he kept it up. Sure enough, she felt the familiar pull that usually came with the fiddling. Then she heard the sound of a surprised grunt from the man, who just expressed milk from her right breast. She released an all-knowing chuckle and then uttered, "I told you to be careful, baby". She felt his mouth unlatched from her.

"Was that… Was that what I think that was?" she heard him questioned.

Without opening her eyes, she simply said "Yeah, you just drunk some breastmilk. Not much because I pumped earlier, but yeah, it was breastmilk." She opened her right eye and she spied him. "Did you like the taste of it?" she teased.

A look of befuddlement crossed his face. "It… Wasn't bad, but it was… It's something that I won't actively seek out," he pointed out.

She broke out in laughter. She gave his thick hair a playful ruffling with her hand. "Well, they can be… Unpredictable," she informed him, before raising up and kissing him.

The short jovial mood was soon forgotten and the intensity was brought back. Eric resumed his mouth's journey and he found himself sliding further down her body. His lips planted kisses along the valley in between her tits and traveled down to her stomach. She was aware of his current destination and it caused her insecurity to bloom. Her stomach wasn't exactly at the point where she desired it to be, even after ten months had passed. It was flatter than the way it looked after she gave birth, but there was no definition and there was a slight swelling at the pit.

"Are you…?" His lips placed a pair of kisses on her stomach. "…sucking in your stomach because you are ticklish…" His mouth suckled on the sliver of skin before saying, "…or you don't want me to see it?"

"A little bit of both," she confessed in a moan.

"Well, don't be. You're sexy" he retorted.

She let out a smug-sounding chuckle. "Well, thank you for the compliment," she said with faux-arrogance.

She felt his eyes give her a glimpse to her face. Then she felt the tip of his tongue slither down to her pelvis and to the brown, swollen petals that eagerly awaited for his arrival. Her clit unleashed a pulsating message that spread through her body. Her arms stretched over her head and her fingers grabbed a hold of the comforter.

"Ah…Mmmm…." Her lips pursed up and then formed a smile.

She heard his arrogant chortle just as she felt his mouth latch onto her sex. A sharp moan fell from her lips and her hips thrusted into the air. Her mouth continued to sing for her body's pleasure as his mouth drew more carnal sensations from her. His tongue delved in between her seam, to tantalize the hidden treasure that waited for him. The tips of his fingers softly grazed at her wet folds, preparing her body for his invasion. His lips plucked at the nerve-filled knot that was her clit.

"Ohhhhh, right there Eric, Yeah, just like that, baby" she moaned. "Ahhh… Eric, keep on, baby." Her hands affectionately caressed his head as his mouth and fingers fucked her sex. To sate her curiosity, she opened her eyes at half-mast and peered down at his endeavors. He managed to drape her long legs over his shoulders. His left forearm was draped across her hips and pelvis, to keep her from moving. His right hand was in between her legs, fiddling with her sex and causing her pleasure. His eyes were closed and his brow was folded. She believed that he held a look of enjoyment; as if he enjoyed having her taste on his lips and tongue. The thought alone caused pussy's walls to squeeze around his fingers. It didn't take his ministrations long to make her reach her edge. With another stream of expletives spilling from her mouth, she came. Every muscle in her body became taut just as every limb trembled. "Eric-Eric-Eric-Eric…" she moaned.

She reached for him as soon as she was able to move her arms. Her palms were soon filled with heated flesh and dense muscle. His lips found various parts of her sated body to kiss as he ascended up her body. His lips made his way to his destination, her smiling lips. As they kissed, she led him to the bed.

"Let me return the favor," she whispered to his lips.

She viewed the pupils in his eyes blow out. Then she was gifted with a sly smirk. "Are you sure?"

She kissed his bottom lip. She nodded her head. "Mmm-hmm."

"Well, I'm not going to stop you."

She released a smoldering chortle. "Good," she murmured. She gave him another kiss before she descended down his body to her destination.

Nasira's eyes dilated with hunger as she peeped at the thick muscle that made up his manhood. He lain against his left leg casually, but he was still hard with arousal. Her right hand took a hold of the base of the shaft. She drew closer to the turgid flesh. The tip of her tongue sampled the smeared clear fluid that his glans shone. She considered the salty taste bearable. She heard his chest rumbled a moan, when her mouth sheathed the glans. She pulled back and swiped her tongue around the knot of flesh. His head jerked off of the pillow, when she licked the pendulum, the band of sensitive skin that was on the underside of the head. His hands clutched the crown of her head. A sharp but soft gasp fell from him. His deep blue orbs glared down his body, at the minx that was laying in between his legs.

"What-the-fuck was that?" he gasped, with fringes of awe in his tone.

She secretly laughed a smug one. Wordlessly, she further explained by giving him a demonstration. With her eyes staring at him, she revealed the second modification that her body contained. The forked tip of her tongue licked down his shaft. She traced the path of the most prominent vein in his prick, down to the base. Then she retraced her journey. She drew her mouth back to his glans. She suckled on the nerve-consumed flesh while her hand pumped at the shaft. Her bedroom became decorated with his moans. Her mouth sheathed more of his hardness. She sucked for a few beats and pulled away, creating stimulation that made him squirm.

As her right hand stroked at the tender flesh, her left twin clasped onto the pair of virile sacs that hung. Her fingers provided a firm caress to the skin.

"Gah-awwdd" he ferociously groaned as his hips made a sharp thrust.

Her hands continued to work his cock and sacs over. Her mouth sank deeper on his shaft.

"…Mmm, just like that," he urged. His hands found the back of her head. "Come on, baby." His hips lifted off of the mattress while his hands pushed on her head.

She felt his prick push pass her mouth's restraint. His glans violently butted up against the opening of her throat. 'Oooooohhh, be careful with what you—

Her thought was cut off when the burning sensation in her lungs stole her attention. She needed air; she needed to breathe. She fought against his hands and she won her freedom. She ejected his thick cock from her mouth. Her throat made an unsavory gasp as she gulped air. Her vision became blurry with tears. The back of her throat tickled as she took each hurried inhale. She made a series of sputtering coughs. With her lungs working, she gazed at her lover's face. Eric held an expression of mischief on his face.

"You're going to pay for that one," she teased.

The impish smirk broadened into a smile. "Oh yeah? What are you gonna do?" he said proudly.

With his proverbial gauntlet thrown, Nasira decided to meet his challenge. She grabbed the base of his cock and slathered the shaft with a glob of spit from her mouth. Her hand set a furious pace on his shaft, stroking him to the point where his body trembled with pleasure. Her mouth, meanwhile, fawned over the glans. Her dual-tipped tongue provided a flurry of rapid licks to the cluster of skin and to the underside of his member. She smiled inwardly, when she heard Eric cry out about his approaching climax. His knees raised up and his breaths were chopped up.

Her fingers loosened up from around his member. Her mouth slipped from over his glans and she sat upright. She stopped.

Eric's head rapidly lifted up. His cerulean orbs locked on hers. She was a witness to how quickly the aura of confusion faded into anger in his eyes. He was not pleased…

…And it made Nasira's heart soar with gleeful energy.

"Nas—Ahhh, shit!"

He didn't get the chance to finish his scolding. She didn't allow him to finish his scolding. Her mouth latched onto his sex, all of a sudden. Instead of like before, his hardness was sheathed by her mouth and throat. With slow and methodical strokes, she built a rhythm on his member; her mouth would make ten shallow strokes and a deep-throated stroke. Her ministrations built him up into another escalation. Then she removed her mouth again. She was greeted with a ferocious groan. She snorted and then laughed. She resumed.

Nasira was committed to perform another callous act of deprivation. But the Dauntless leader had other plans. As she sucked and fondles his overcharged sex, she built him up again. Once she unattached herself from his pleasure, she was surprised to find herself on her back, seconds later. She quickly snapped her vision over to the brooding, naked person that was in front of her.

Eric's deep blue eyes leveled a meticulous, cold gaze at her. It caused her body to shiver and to heat up with arousal.

"You think that shit was real cute, huh?" he growled.

Nasira smiled in response. She made an attempt to draw away from him by sliding away. He blocked her attempt by snatching up each thigh and dragging her back into his personal space. He shifted his lower body in between her opened legs. Her nose and eyes simultaneously picked the evidence of her arousal. Her eyes turned to Eric's face.

"You like…" His prick landed on her eager sex. "…torturing…" His hips shifted in a sawing motion against her slit. His shaft and glans bathed in her nectar.

The action made a thrilling ripple shoot through her. Her toes curled. Her mouth fell open and a hoarse mewl fell out.

"…me?" he questioned.

A short moan slipped from her. She stared at him. "C-Careful Eric. It's very un-Dauntless of you to compare this to—Fuck!"

Blunt force pleasure had exploded in her cunt. Her walls erratically clenched and released on his prick. The blowback from the bomb of pleasure rippled through her body. Points of pleasure stabbed at all erogenous zones. Her skin buzzed while her abdominals clenched. Her pair of nipples emitted pin pricks of sensual pleasure. Her heart raced and her chest felt saddled with weight. Her eyes peered down at their point of union. His groin was pressed firmly against her aroused sex.

'He bottomed out…Balls de— Oh, fuck!'

Her eyes stared at the man who was partly responsible for the toe-curling pleasure that she was feeling. Her eyes ogled the sweat-slathered, hair-layered torso, which showcased his defined muscles with every inhale. Her vision crawled up to his face. She fell under the spell that his eyes cast upon her. His deep set, blue orbs commanded that she remained a steady gaze.

His hips reared back at a deceptively-considerate pace, making his member crawl out of her and leaving a lasting impression. A husky wail slipped from her as her eyelids fluttered. She felt his hand skate down her left thigh to her left hip, where he held a tight grip. His hips snapped forward, slipping his hardness in her warmth. She jolted and moaned as her pleasure burned at her sex.

"Look at me," his hoarse voice demanded.

Nasira was not aware that her eyes drifted close. But they popped open as soon as she heard his command. Her dark sherry-colored view landed on his eyes again. The corners of his lips turned into a smile as he subjected her to another sharp thrust. The first few thrusts told her what type of fucking she was going to receive from the Dauntless leader. With his meaty hand settled on her thighs and her legs raised off of the bed, he rutted with her at an unrelenting pace. His thrusts were hard, fast and shallow. Yet, he made sure that his prick slid across her clit's surface, providing a delicious friction. A friction, which sent out several signals to several points of her body. Her pleasure made her tremble. His name kept falling from her lips in the form of clumsy mumbles. Her fingers held onto his wrists and decorated the skin with red-tinted, half-moons. Her climax quickly approached as she was subjected to Eric's lascivious advances. It built up like a rollercoaster ride's ascent, up to its highest peak. As she fell over the edge, it felt just as thrilling. With a muffled and hoarse cry, she came. Her limbs shook as her walls tightened around his pleasure-inducing manhood.

"Eric! Er-Eric! Eric!" she mewled. He gave her a throaty grunt in response.

Her body was still in the throes of her climax, when she was deposited on her belly. A rough paw grasped onto her hip and tilted her frame slightly. A fluffy pillow was wedged in between her body and the mattress' surface. He placed her back in the same position, but this time her ass was propped up in the air. His hand touched her lower back. Her wrists were captured in his other hand. They were pinned to the bed, above her head. His knees kicked each one of her thighs to the side and caused the gap to ridiculously widen in between her thighs. Seconds later, she felt her fleshy barrier being split apart by his probing cock and then being slowly filled his hardness. Her cunt's walls were stretched as his thick glans and shaft invaded her sheath. A hoarse cry flooded the bedroom as he settled into her, deeper than before. Seconds later, a blanket of heated flesh and muscle covered her. She took in the sight of his fist, which was planted a few inches away from her face. She felt his warm and soft lips on her back. He peppered her right shoulder with kisses before traveling to her neck.

"You're still tight for me," he whispered.

Even though she was in a sex-induced trance, she understood the intent behind those words. It was Eric's way of asking her if she has been sexually-involved with other men, during her ten-month sabbatical. A smile crossed her face. 'He thinks that he's slick,' her brain mused. She deeply inhaled and moaned, "It's just you, darling".

His lips grazed her ear. "Good…"

Air caressed her bare ass as he reared his hips back. It was a loud smack that echoed along the walls, when his hips surged forward and his groin slapped up against her. The sensation of being stretched and full made her moan out against the soft comforter. His lips grazed her left temple just as his hips reared back again. This time, his thrust felt stronger, harder but with seduction. This wasn't a rutting, it was something a little emotional. Her body unleashed a shudder in response. His balled-up hand grabbed at her hands. His lower body pushed pass her fleshy thighs to sink his prick deeper into her warmth. Her body appreciated his efforts by eagerly gripping his member. Both parents groaned. His hips pushed his groin against her inflamed sex. Pleasurable friction danced across her hairless labia and hardened clitoris. His teeth heightened her sensational experience by nipping at her cheek.

Nasira's plump lips pursed up and a hiss slithered pass. "FFFFFFFFFuck!" She pushed her ass back towards them, a silent request for more. She listened to his groan.

In this position, she expected for Eric to fuck her with the desperation that usually accompanied a dying man's spirit as he fights for his life. She expected another case of rough rutting, like the one from before. She expected him to fill her up by using thrusts that were fast-paced, rough and strong. She expected to feel his passion just as she felt his heated body against hers.

She received, however, treatment that was more passionate. It began the moment of when his hands gathered hers and interlinked their fingers together. Her eyes zoomed in on their hands. A tingling permeated through her and it wasn't from his thrusts. It built up, when he pressed his forehead against her temple. Her ear was flooded with his serenade of rough breaths and sounds of gratification. His hips orchestrated a performance that teased her heart and mind with hints of intimacy. His thrusts were of slow speed and deep. His cock allured every nerve that aligned her walls. With each stroke, he punctuated each one with either a soft kiss to her temple, a soft moan or a tight squeeze to her fingers. Occasionally, his hips would siphon more pleasure from her core with slow grinds against her.

Nasira came with a soft wail falling from in between her lips. Her body squirm against his body and the rumpled blanket. Her fingers squeezed and held onto his digits. After the last quiver faded, her consciousness was made aware of the heated body that covered her own. She whimpered as she tried to view his face. Her actions spurned him on. His lips gave her exposed cheek a kiss as he thrusted.

"Ahhhhh," she softly moaned, "Eric."

A throaty groan fell from his mouth. "I ain't done with you yet. I haven't forgotten about that little joke that you pulled," he informed her. His prick doled out a sharp thrust after each spoken statement.

A low-pitched whine escaped from her mouth as he lifted off of her.

"I am about to get my revenge on you," he explained.

In a sluggish manner, she queried his intentions. "What do you mean?" Her hips and ass was abruptly pulled backwards. His prick once again nudged her cervix. She grunted from the slight, dulled discomfort.

"Well…" His hands grabbed her hips and squeezed. "…I plan on fucking you, for the rest of the night," he reported. She noticed the nonchalance in his tone.

Nasira glanced at him from over her right shoulder. There was a sense of mirth smeared all over his handsome face. Before she could make a remark, she was silenced by a strike of pleasure. A flash of white light few across her eyes. A shuddering groan flew out of her mouth. Eric's hardness moved inside of her once again, in the form of a hard stroke. She felt his thick fingers curl around her throat. There was a soft squeeze. He held onto her neck while his prick and its hard thrusts worked her into completion. Before her body could simmer down, Eric continued to fan the flames by starting her up again. This time, his mouth and his fingers conjured the fire in her. His dick was reintroduced to her, as she tried to wade through the sea of lethargy that she was in. Eric just tossed her legs over his broad shoulders and proceeded to make her turn numb.

Her son's father tried to make good on his act of revenge. He used his body to coax any kind of orgasm from her spent body. As soon as she would reach her climax, her body would be rearrange into a new pose and then he fucked her again. Nasira felt as if she experienced every kind of orgasm that her body could create. Eric, on the other hand, didn't spill one bit of his seed. He purposefully kept his erection just so he could fuck her.

She eventually reached her breaking point, a few hours later. After one passionate session, she weakly scooted to the head of the bed and tried to hide behind the family of pillows. She then raised her left hand up and presented her index and middle fingers. Eric remain rooted in his spot, which was in the center of the bed and kneeling. An amused expression was written on his face. "What-the-hell does that mean?"

"It means that I surrender to this…Whatever this brand of torture this is," was her answer.

Eric cackled. He ran his fingers through his curly hair. "So…" He made his first steps towards her. "…you consider this to be torture and not that shit that you pulled as torture?" He came to a stop, when there were six inches of space between them.

Nasira eyed him warily. "If I say yes, then will you, and that battering ram that you like to call a 'dick', leave me alone?"

He chuckled. His hands pushed his sweat-stained hair from his eyes. He gave her a lingering glare. Finally, he answered. "Yes."

The cooling sensation that was relief touched at her spirit. She made an audible exhale.

He extended his hand out to her. "Come on."

Nasira took a hold of his hand and then shuffled over to his location. Once she was close enough, he sought after her hips. He pulled her closer. Her hands collided with his chest. As she began to tilt her face, his mouth attacked hers. She applied just as much fervor into their kisses. His lips move down to her neck where he suckled on the love-bruised skin. His hands meanwhile traveled to the back of her thighs, where his fingers curled around. A second later, she felt a firm pull on her legs. She grabbed a hold on his shoulders and held on as he lifted her. Her legs wrapped around his waist. She felt the world shift and her stomach flip as he rearranged their stances. He sat upright on her king-sized canopy while she straddled his hips. The new seating arrangement caused memories of Lucien's conception to float inside of her head.

"Please tell me that you're on something… This time," he whispered to her neck.

"Why?" She chuckled. "You don't want to work on making us a daughter, next?"

She received a cold, unblinking glare in response.

She snorted and then laughed. "Yes…" She kissed his lips. "Yes, I'm on a birth control."

"Good," he breathed. "Good."

When they reconnected, Nasira readily accepted his dick. Like their previous sessions, his member managed to stimulate every nerve. She pushed his hardness deeper into her already-sore canal. She felt a line of pressurized pleasure begin to form. It began in her sex and spread into the pit of her stomach, where the line had splintered off into every erogenous zone. With every stroke from his member, her body pulsated with carnal satisfaction. She hummed while her lips shown her gratitude with feverish kisses and blatant sounds of moaning. Despite spending most of the night having her body subjected to orgasms, her body was susceptible. She came with a hoarse wail and a flash of deep red across her eyes. Her nails dug into his shoulders and her hips moved to a soundless song.

"Eric!" She proceeded to chant his name in choppy pants. Her lips skimmed along the surface of his lips.

Under the fog of her climax, she was made aware of the soft comforter touching her back. She was also aware of Eric's hands as they arranged her legs' position around his waist. Her hands clasped onto his narrow hips and her heels dug into his thighs. She heard his fists slide along the comforter and coming to a rest by her head. His upper body slightly lifted and his face lowered to her neck, where he nuzzled. Meanwhile his hips unleashed a series of thrusts that were jarring. His strokes were fluid, quick-paced and displayed a sense of urgency. The sounds of the squealing bedsprings and the swaying headboard flooded her ears, as well as, tickled at her arousal. Her womb tingled, a sign that she was about to have another climax.

Her hands slid across the plains of taut, hot skin that made up his back and drifted down to his ass. Feeling the power behind his thrusts spurred her to unravel. Unlike the several previous ones, this one was comprised of a few small quivers that left her clitoris throbbing.

The softest moan escaped from Eric's mouth and it captured her attention. She turned her head slightly and she stared at his shoulder. Her lips pressed a soft kiss to his hair-covered cheek. "Come for me, baby" she murmured. There was a hitch in his breathing. "That's it. Just like…" She kissed him again as her hands rubbed his back. She listened to his shuddering breath while she felt his tremors against her body. A passing sensation of warmth filled up the space in between her thighs. She heard a gentle whimper just as he supplied her with all of his weight. He was heavy, but it was savored feeling. "Oh," she moaned softly. She wrapped her limbs around his body.

*~oMLo~*

Nasira's eyes gradually opened and officially welcomed the morning. Or rather, they welcomed the afternoon.

'One thirty-three!' her brain screamed while her widened, sleep-crusted eyes stared at the digital clock that was on her nightstand. She jerked upright and practically flew out of bed. The tender muscles in her legs reminded her of their exhaustion, once her feet touched the floor. Her mind replayed a snapshot of that night's activities. A fringe of arousal bloomed in her. Her overspent sex pulsated, in remembrance.

As she recalled the previous night, she quietly eyed the man that was solely responsible for the fatigue. Eric was laying on the other side of her bed, still asleep. He was laying on his stomach with his arms tucked underneath the pillow. His head was turned and he was facing her. His face held an expression of contentment. His eyes were shut but without tension. The brow ridge was smooth without a wrinkle of worry.

"Ma-Ma!" was sprayed out of the baby monitor that was on her nightstand. She also heard remnants of the call being displayed out in the hallway.

'Luke!' her brain reminded her. 'He must've heard the sounds of her feet touching the hardwood floor. Her conscious reminded her of the time. She grimaced while she chastised herself. 'I'm such a bad mom for over-sleeping! He must be so scared right now!'

She learned that it was quite the opposite, when she entered Lucien's room, twelve minutes later. Her son was calmly sitting in his crib, cross-legged and playing with a toy that she left in there. Once he was alerted of her presence, he turned to her and smiled.

Her guilt struck her again. 'I'm such a…'

Lucien nicely placed his toy down and stood up in his crib, by using the railing to balance himself. With a glowing and smiling face, the toddler reached out for his mother. "Ma-Ma! Ma-Ma! Ma-Ma!" he shrieked jubilantly.

'I am such a shitty mom,' she secretly whined.

With a simpering smile, she made her way to her son and she pulled him from out of his crib. His little legs wrapped around her waist and his chubby hands grabbed her face. He gave her a sloppy, drool-worthy kiss on her left cheek.

"Oooh" she swooned. With watery eyes, she gazed at her son. "I love you, Luke." She kissed his chubby, right cheek as he laughed and clapped his hands.

Nasira began her day with her usual rituals. After changing the baby into a clean diaper and into his layette, the both of them entered the living room. She procured the baby's walkers and placed him inside. The child excitedly took off further into the living room. Soon, the large room was filled with the sounds of wheels running across the wooden floorboards and the sounds of babbling.

She made her way into the open-air kitchen to start cooking a late breakfast. She didn't know if Eric was the type of person who willfully eat a meal as soon as he woke up, but she decided to take a chance. After raiding her refrigerator for ingredients and powering up her coffee machine, she decided to clean herself up, along with her son.

'Oooh Lord!' her brain gasped as she took in her reflection. Her wide eyes stared at her face and hair's reflection. Her hair was sticking up in different angles while the stylized luster and the bouncy curls that it once contained had disappeared. A film of dried saliva formed at the corners of her mouth. Her face was slightly bloated and there was a slight redness in the sclera of her eyes. 'Oh, I have to tame this,' she silently said to herself. She placed Lucien on the bathroom floor. As a precaution, she placed the toilet seat's lid down. 'To avoid that situation from happening again.' She glimpsed at her son. He was eyeing her as well, but he held a look of contempt. "Yeah, I know what you were thinking about, buddy," she told him. "I am planning on not losing any more makeup and socks because of…" She pointed at him. "…yooooooooouuuuu," she drawled.

Her last statement caused Lucien to chuckle. She smiled and then proceeded to fix her hair. With the help of a brush, a dollop of hair pomade, a handful of water and a hair tie, she styled her hair into a bun. Then she cleaned herself and her son. By the time she was finished, the smell of brewing coffee penetrated the atmosphere.

Nasira noticed that Eric was still asleep, when she entered the dimly-lit bedroom. He was laying on his back now with his legs tangled up in the bed linen. His arms were strewn across his torso. The sound of her son's arrival reminded her to make sure that his father was covered. She breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted a sliver of his boxer-briefs.

"Eric," she said softly. She pushed a tuft of curls from his forehead. "Eric, wake up, darling" she whispered. Her fingertips drummed a melody on his forehead. She watched his brow crumple and his top lip curled slightly. She chuckled softly. 'So that's where Lucien gets it from.' She saw his eyelids flutter for a few beats before peeling back, revealing his blue eyes. She noticed the softness in them. The energy of confusion pooled around in his eyes and it was followed by the sense of recognition. "Good morning," she greeted him.

"Morning," he whispered. His eyes did a slow blink. "What time…" He paused. His body unleashed a hearty stretch.

Nasira glanced at the clock. The time read '2:52 PM'. She looked away. "It's going on fifteen-hundred hours."

His eyes widened and became more alert.

She noticed. "Did you have somewhere else to go?" she questioned with concern in her tone.

He performed a deep inhale as his hand ran across his face. "No," he said into his hand. "No, I don't. For a moment, I thought that I did have some place to go. I'm not used to sleeping in so late," he clarified, this time, without the hand.

"Would you like to have some breakfast with us?" she asked him.

Eric gave her a lingering stare, before answering. "Sure, why not." Then with a grunt, he sat upright in the bed.

"If you would like to shower, then I could get you…" She let the statement trail off.

"Alright," he murmured. He swung his legs off to the side and over the edge of the mattress.

A stream of juvenile, enthusiastic babble filled the air. Then the sounds of wheels sliding across the floor, followed. "…You!" Lucien chuckled. Nasira lifted up slightly and peered over the edge. She spotted the tuft of brown hair. She continued to survey that clump of ringlets as it travel, over the horizon that was the mattress' edge, to where Eric was sitting.

"Hi."

It wasn't the reaction that she expected. His tone was light, yet not high-pitched when he spoke. The logical side of her knew that Eric wouldn't talk to their son in the 'baby talk' dialect. But she didn't know if he would speak to their son with emotional un-attachment, like he would speak to an initiate or a fellow colleague.

Lucien responded to his father with more babble. The boy rolled his way closer to Eric. He babbled and converse with his father. Then he raised his arms in the air, his way of asking to be picked up.

"He wants you to pick him up" she explained.

Eric gave Nasira a glance from over his broad shoulder. Then he peered down at their son. A second later, she heard Lucien grunt. "Alright," mumbled Eric.

Nasira watched his hunch over and take Lucien out of his walker. The boy squealed with delight and he gave Eric a toothless smile. The pair of tiny arm wrapped around his neck. A sloppy kiss was given to his bearded jaw, a second later. She saw the slight grimace on his face. She had a gut feeling that the Dauntless leader was a neat-freak.

'Well, you better get used to it, buddy.'

A moment later, Eric, Nasira and their son had gone to the living room. Once there, the father and son sat at the island counter while the mother fixed their meals. For the parents, there were egg white omelets with diced vegetables and a bowl of mixed fruit with wheat toast. Lucien was fed a small bowl of maple syrup-flavored oatmeal. For his meal time, the child sat on his father's lap because he refused to be place in his feeding chair. When she tried to persuade him, he just clung tighter to his father's left flank and he gave his mother a disapproving glare. The subtle action left a profound impact on both parents, but they kept silent about their opinions. For conversation, the parents chose to speak about light topics, which consisted of the comings and goings that occurred in Dauntless and about Lucien.

During the silent periods, Nasira did reflect about their time together. In particular, their last sexual encounter from last night. It was different, very different from the previous ones, she sensed. Every one of their previous escapades were fun but emotionally disconnected. She was his willing fuck-toy that he managed to play with. She wasn't offended. She enjoyed herself because she needed the sex.

However, the last one left a bit of residual energy and she wasn't talking about his semen either. The last act, in which he held her in his arms as he helped her come, felt different. Then there were his thrusts. She felt his urgency. But she didn't think it was about his impatience for the arrival of his orgasm. She detected the motivation of something else.

"Ma-Ma!"

Her son's calling pulled her from her thoughts. She looked at her son and smiled. "Hi, big boy!" Lucien smiled and squealed. He remained seated in his father's lap. She glimpsed at Eric. "He likes you, which is surprising."

"Why is it?" he asked.

"He doesn't go to men that he's never met." She took a sip of her coffee. "He didn't even go to his uncles. And it was like pulling teeth to get him to go to Malachi. It wasn't until… What?"

"Who's Malachi?" he asked with a sharp edge in his voice.

'Wait… Why is he…? Is he…? Nah, he can't be.'

She did a grimace. "Malachi is my best friend… And Lucien's unofficial godfather."

"What-the-hell is an 'unofficial—?

"It means that I want him to be Lucien's godfather, but ever since he lives in Erudite—

"He lives in Erudite? So, how do you remain friends with him, if he lives in another faction?"

"He is a Dauntless-born. He transferred to Erudite. A strong part of him wanted to stay, but he knew that couldn't because he wouldn't have passed the initiation," she informed him.

"Dauntless is only for the brave," Eric pointed out before taking a sip of his coffee.

"And it's for the physically abled, more importantly," she counterpointed. She saw the question written on his face. She decided to explain. "Malachi… He doesn't have full control of his hands. Plus, over seventy percent of his body was burn."

Nasira watched the glaze of recognition come across his eyes. "I think I know who you're talking about," he said to her. "The guy that you were dancing with on the night of the Diplomatic Banquet. Is that the one?"

She nodded her head.

"What happened to him? How did you guys meet?" he asked.

She was pleased that he was genuinely interested. She bit down on her bottom lip to keep from smiling. She plucked a grape from her bowl and bit into it. "Malachi was burned when he was about Luke's age. His brothers were playing with a lighter that they found and they accidentally lit some bedding on fire. It just so happens that Malachi was laying on those blankets. And in regards to your second question, we met when we were in second grade. A few boys were beating on him and I decided to come to his aid."

"You can't fight worth a shit," he told her. "I remember you during your initiation trials."

"Yeah, I know" she said so matter-of-factly. "It's why when I came to his aid, I also got my ass kicked."

Eric did a spit-take into his coffee cup.

*~oMLo~*

After the trio finished their late breakfast, Nasira cleaned up. Meanwhile Eric and Lucien played in the living room, but only after he received words of encouragement from her. She intermittently observed both boys as she cleaned. She wanted to laugh when she saw Eric's standoffish demeanor. She knew it was just the case of him not knowing what to do with the boy. She knew that he didn't have any experience with interacting with children. He was in a whole new ballgame and he didn't even have a baseball bat. In Eric's eyes, Lucien was the same as a puppy, when it came to his perception. In fact, she caught the leader playing "Go, Fetch" with their son. It was at this point, she decided to help him out. She suggested to the father to teach his son a lesson in walking. She had shown him her favorite method, which consisted of Lucien leaning up against a wall until he was comfortable enough to travel. Then she left them alone again. Twenty minutes later, Lucien grew tired of his dad's controlling and authoritative ways. He sought after his mother, crawling into the kitchen and then proceeding to tattle on his father. She, then, jokingly dismissed Eric by telling him to go to the bathroom and take his shower.

During the forty minutes that Eric was showering, Lucien became her baby boy again. He cuddled with her as she sat on the couch and read from a story book. Then once he heard the bathroom door open and Eric's footsteps, he tossed her aside. He carefully climbed off of the couch and then crawled out of the living room to follow his father. Like most boys, he stayed in his father's company until it was his time to leave.

"Nah…"

'Please-please-please, don't start this now.'

"Nah-ooooooo…"

Nasira watched in mild annoyance as her son's usual beautiful face morph into a mask of grief.

"…oooooooooo…" There was a pause in the sorrow-filled, call out. A pair of fat tears dripped down his cheeks. His fists flailed in the air.

'And here it comes…'

The living room and the hallway outside of her home was decorated with Lucien's ear-piercing wails.

Lucien thrashed and struggled against her embrace. Nasira knew that she was participating in a battle where she would lose, so she decided to submit a painless surrender. She kneeled down to the floor and carefully deposited her son. As soon as his hands and knees touched the floorboards, he took off in a fast crawl. She knew where he was going and she watched him travel to his destination. Along the way, his tiny body kept crying out wails. If it wasn't for the swaying diaper-clad, booty being funny, she would've broken out in tears by now. The screaming baby ended up crawling over to the front door, where Eric stood halfway in the living room and in the outside corridor.

Eric scooped Lucien up as soon as the boy clasped onto his left leg. He held his son in his arms and drew him close. Lucien's arms tried to wrap his arms around his dad's broad frame while he pressed his curly-haired head against Eric's collarbone. His sobs still shook his tiny frame. They just held each other, in the doorway of the front door.

The scene caused both a physical and emotional reaction for Nasira. 'I was wrong.' Her brain whispered. 'I was wrong. Lucien needs him.' The revelation caused a tightness in her throat and her eyes to sting with tears, which threatening to fall. Her stomach clenched. 'He needs him… I need him to be here.' She coughed, an attempt to dislodge the lump in her throat. She unintentionally caught Eric's attention. His azure-hued eyes locked in on her. She was surprised to see the softness in them. She pointed to him. "You see what happens when you play with him for two hours?" she quipped.

Eric's lips did a short stint as a smile. He snuggled closer to their son. She detected his lips move, but he kept his voice low. He held onto their son and rubbed his back, soothing him. His cries diminished into whimpers. Lucien looked at his father, red-faced and tear-stained. Nasira was a just a simple spectator in this moment, a spectator who wished that she had her camera.

After a moment, there was a "Nasira".

He didn't have to tell her anything. She knew what he wanted from her: to take Lucien from him. She stood up and then reluctantly strolled up to the father and son. She stood by Eric and began to detract their son from his arms. Once again, Lucien broke out into tears. This time, she held onto the boy as he squirmed. She was in the process of slipping a protective arm underneath his bottom, when Eric planted a kiss on the top of his head. Nasira was surprised about his action. When Eric paused a millisecond later, she believed that his action even surprised him.

A second later, his eyes focused on her. "I'll see you later on," he said to her.

She nodded her head. "Okay…I'll see you later."

Eric gave them one last stare before he stepped away. She remained in the doorway with one foot in the apartment and the other foot in the outside corridor. Her arms attempted to console their son while her eyes were observing the retreating figure.

The Dauntless leader wasn't aware of the woman's lingering stare. He wasn't aware that she noticed the way his back gradually shifted from relaxed to rigid and straight. He wasn't aware that she detected the way his head stopped its natural bobbing and became stationary. He wasn't aware that she managed to witness the moment of when he turned from the man to the Dauntless faction leader. She watched his retreating figure until he made the left turn into the elevator bay.

She stared down at the empty hallway, for a few seconds. Then Nasira stared down at her son's hair. "Luke? Luke." Once her son tilted his face so he could glance at her, she pointed down the hallway, in the direction that his father walked. "Did you see that, Luke? Did you know that was daddy that just left?" Lucien mimicked his mother by pointing in the same direction. She nodded her head. "Yeah, that was your daddy? Can you say 'Dada'? Mmm? Let's try it, okay?" She stepped into her home and turned her back to the hallway. "Maybe, we should try to say it, so it can be a surprise for daddy."