Page 30 of Ceremony of Lust

As if she can hear my thoughts, her eyes pop open, and she looks down at me. I expect her to be horrified as she watches me feast between her legs, but her eyes are dark and full of want. She keeps her eyes on me, even as I close mine to enjoy the last of my meal until she succumbs. Her entire body tenses while I remain relentless in my pursuit, chasing her over the edge. Her body releases itself as she lets out a low moan. Her juices flood my tongue, coating my lips with their sweet nectar.

Aftershocks travel through her body as I place soft kisses along her inner thighs.

“Zev,” she breathes out. “What was that?”

“Only the beginning, my beautiful wife. Only the beginning.”

17

Yael

When the door opens,and Hadassah comes to retrieve us, I feel so transparent. Surely, she can tell we just did something unspeakable. I press my hands to my flushed cheeks because I must look different in some way. I certainly feel different.

The reception hall is divided by a transparent barrier with men on one side and women on the other. I’m reluctant to let go of Zev’s hand because being separated feels wrong. If anything, I can use his large body as a shield to keep the eyes off me.

He gives me a reassuring kiss on the cheek before disappearing into the crowd of men who all cheer his appearance.

All of the women greet me in a similar fashion, and we begin to clap and dance.

As I twirl on the dance floor, my eyes keep landing on the see-through curtain, hoping for a glance of Zev’s shadowed figure.

“Yael,” one of my married friends calls out, tugging on my arm. “Don’t worry about your husband. He will be fine without you for a few hours!”

I smile, embarrassed. “How could you tell?”

She exchanges a glance with another friend. They both were matched and married almost a year ago. “You got lucky; Hadassah picked probably the most handsome man in Ripley to be your husband. No one would blame you for wanting to be alone with him.”

Heat warms my cheeks. “Am I that obvious?”

They both giggle. “Just remember your place, Yael. Don’t expect too much from him. Zev may be handsome but he’s still a man.”

“Sure,” I answer, but I have no idea what they’re talking about. Zev and I clearly do not have a typical relationship. What is my place now? I am his wife, that much is clear, but he doesn’t seem interested in someone meek and submissive.

But all night long, I am told repeatedly by the women of the community that being a good wife means complete submission. According to them, I must learn to cook his favorite meals so he can feast like a king when he comes home. I must learn to anticipate his moods and never burden him with my own insecurities.

They mention nothing about my own happiness. What I learn from their various pearls of wisdom is my happiness depends on my husband. He comes first.

“Even after you have babies,” one woman says as she rubs her round belly. “He comes first, and everyone else can wait.”

How quickly I am brought back down to earth after seven minutes in heaven. After a while, the steady stream of women offering me their tips and tricks becomes too much to bear, and I seek the comfort of a dark corner.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself, Yael.” Hadassah’s voice momentarily distracts me.

I give her a weak smile. “I’m exhausted. It’s been a long day.”

“No doubt you are eager to get home and consummate your marriage,” she says with a lift of her brows.

I hadn’t even thought of sex. “I would just like to be alone with my husband,” I tell her honestly.

“You expect too much, Yael. I can already tell. You expect your husband to be caring and loving. You think your marriage will be different, but you’re wrong.” Her words are like a slap to the face. Why is she telling me this? “All women matched with someone as experienced as Zev think the same way as you. I’ve seen it before, and I know what will happen. You’ll get caught up in the passion of these first few days, and you’ll forget your place is behind your husband, not beside him. He has all the power. Let him rule, Yael.”

She disappears, leaving me with more questions and not enough answers.

I’m not left alone for long. Beverly Landau, Zev’s mother, joins me in a dark corner. “You look tired,” she says, brushing a stray curl out of my face. “Don’t worry, this won’t last much longer. Half the people have already left.”

“I am very tired,” I tell her. Tired of listening to everybody’s advice on how I should behave and how I should treat my husband. Everyone has invited themselves into my marriage and into my thoughts. I feel brittle, like a twig, and ready to snap. “Do you have advice for me, Mrs. Landau?”

She seems surprised at first and then laughs. “I suspect you’ve heard enough tonight.”