This story is a collaboration with odiebell98
The baby names in this chapter are not meant to offend anyone. We were simply trying to play on the fact that the names in the Selection series are so original, we wanted America to laugh at the idea of a name that would seem normal to us.
Hope you enjoy! We love hearing from you!
"Ugh that's an awful name!" I shrieked with laughter as Maxon looked at me with mock outrage.
"America Schreave, why not?" Maxon whined.
"I am not naming the future heir of Illea Hannah! What if it's a boy?"
"Hmm I hadn't really thought of that," he muttered. "Harold?"
"Even worse!" I pulled my knees up to my chest in laughter. I was cuddled up next to my husband in our bed following our make-up chat. In his excitement, the man started throwing baby name ideas at me. So far, they were all terrible. I rolled so that I was talking into Maxon's shirt. "Do we have to decide this now?" I pleaded.
I felt his chest rise and fall quickly as he chuckled underneath me. "No, love, of course not," he said. He cupped my face and gently pulled me up to look at him. His gaze took my breath away. In the charged second that passed between us, I could see how miserable our fight had made him too. I hated to see that I had hurt him. I pushed myself up on my elbows to gently press my lips to his. I felt his body lean into mine instinctively in response, and I brought one hand up to hook around his neck. While I supported myself on one elbow I pulled him to me, deepening the kiss. But wait, before we got too far, I had something I needed to know.
I pulled away and waited for him to look at me. "Maxon," I said cautiously. "Do you think I'll be a good mother?"
He looked bewildered for a second, then his face turned to incredulous. Apparently he thought it was a ridiculous question. I looked away.
"America, look at me darling." I couldn't do it. He gently put his fingers under my chin and physically brought my eyes up to his. "I think you'll be an amazing mother," he said, the sincerity made my eyes begin to burn. "You practically helped raise your younger siblings. You were helping provide for your family for years before I brought you here. You're the most caring and passionate person I've ever met." He brought his hand to my cheek as he finished, "And you will be an amazing mother."
His bright blue eyes watched every move I made. Perfectly tan skin made me crave his touch. Strong arms with toned muscles made me shudder. I worked my hardest to get him. To be someone he would want, in the end, amidst all those other girls. And here I was listening to him tell me that I was everything he wanted in the mother of his child. I ran my hands through his hair. I pulled his face towards mine and whispered "I love you so much," just before his lips crashed into mine.
If our earlier kisses were gentle and controlled, this was anything but. My hands flew feverishly from his hair to his neck to his chest and Maxon kissed me so hard I felt that I might shatter apart in his arms. Suddenly, he was leaning over me, on top of me, and his hand was traveling up my thigh. His other hand was gripping my waist. I went to work on the buttons of his shirt but got stuck on the last one. The fabric was caught, and I grunted against him in frustration. His breath tickled my cheek as he laughed and sat up to relieve himself of the garment. As soon as it was gone, I pulled him back against me and we crashed back to each other, that half a second of distance almost unbearable. He nibbled on my bottom lip, I sighed.
I craved him from the top of my head to my toes. He met my eyes. He slowly unzipped my dress. It was agony that he was moving so slowly, taunting me with every second. He never broke our gaze. I ran my fingers faintly over his stomach, feeling the uneven terrain of his muscles. He tensed at the touch. I slid my hands around to his back, watching him flinch. I kissed his shoulders while my hands explored the raised bumps interrupting his otherwise perfect skin. I needed him to know that I loved every part of him, even the scars. Some of those he took to spare me. I brought my lips back to his and he relaxed. He moved around while we kissed. His pants were on the floor.
If I was in my right mind I would have stopped. But whenever I am with him, my defenses crumbled, leaving me vulnerable. He pulled me against him, more determined. I felt totally and completely loved. He laid me down, and I took in every inch of him. I was his and he was mine, and that was all I needed in that moment.