Page 43 of Ceremony of Lust
My lip trembles slightly, and my thoughts are jumbled. It’s so hard to figure out how I should feel. For years, I’ve been taught to believe one thing, but my husband is quite the opposite. My heart tells me to believe him, trust him, but my head tells me I’ve seen the worst happen. I know girls who’ve been matched, married, and then left with nothing because they couldn’t have children. I’ve heard the rumors about them in stores and at community events. I’ve seen them disappear from Ripley, never to be heard from again. An icy cold shiver races up my spine. I don’t want that to happen to me.
Zev’s hands slide across my stomach and around my back, and he tugs me closer. “I know what you need.” His voice is a low growl. “You need control. Don’t you, Yael?”
“Control?”
“Yes. I want you to take control, right here, right now.” His hands fall away, and he reaches down to his lap, unbuckles his belt, and pushes his pants down. There is a sizable bulge already straining against the fabric of his boxer briefs. “Fuck me, Yael.” He grabs my hand and presses it against his crotch. “Use me for your pleasure.”
“I-I don’t know how,” I stutter.
His hand disappears underneath the skirt of my dress and brushes against the center of my body. “Yes, you do.Fuck me.”
He tugs my underwear down my legs and then lets them drop before sitting back and spreading his legs in invitation to take my pleasure from him. My hands shake as I reach for the hem of my dress and lift it up and over my head. I let it drop to the floor before reaching with trembling fingers for the waistband of his boxer briefs, freeing him. I take one step forward, then another, before straddling him. He grabs himself and holds it steady while he waits.
With my hands on his broad shoulders, I slowly lower myself over him. He aligns himself underneath me, and I feel the head notch against my entrance. Inch by inch, I sink down, and when he’s finally buried deep inside me, we let out simultaneous hisses. This time is more painful than the rest. I realize it’s because he’s prepared me with his mouth or his fingers every other time.
For a moment, I’m still. His hands are on my waist and mine hold firmly to his shoulders; we look at each other.
“Now what?” I whisper, my eyes traveling down to his mouth.
“Take what you want from me,” he whispers.
A kiss. I claim his lips with a sharp kiss, tugging at his bottom lip, sweeping my tongue against his. He responds hungrily, searing me with his desire, swallowing every attempt I make at controlling this moment, forcing me to fight back and take what I want until finally, I give in to him with a sigh. As he devours me, my body moves in response. My hips move back and forth against him, and when we break apart, I don’t see my husband. I see the devil.
“That’s it,” he encourages me. “Fuck me.”
“Stop saying that,” I hiss, focusing on how my body is moving and how I feel.
His hands glide up my sides and along the front of my bra, tearing at the flimsy cup until it’s shredded. His head lowers as he cradles my back, and he feasts on my breasts, sucking and teasing my nipples while I rock harder against him.
My body feels as though it’s on fire, as if flames are chasing each other and the only way to put them out is to take Zev deeper. I grind against him hard, back and forth, back and forth, working myself into a frenzy.
“That’s it,” he encourages me. “Oh, God, Yael, you feel so good. Your pussy . . . fuck!”
“Stop talking like that,” I breathe out as I lace my hands around his neck and lean back.
“I’ll say whatever the fuck I want,” he growls, letting his hands work their way down my body and between my legs. His thumb brushes against a sensitive spot, adding more fuel to the fire raging inside me.
“Do that again,” I command.
He brushes his thumb across the spot over and over. My movements become frantic as I try to capture the feeling of complete ecstasy brewing deep in my belly as I race toward my own orgasm.
Oh, God,I think as I surrender myself completely to the feel of his hands on me, to the feel of him stretching my walls with each thrust.
My own release comes quickly and almost unexpectedly, and I cry out, clinging to him as his fingers dig into my hips, holding me in place while he drives himself up, up, up, and with a loud roar, he explodes inside me.
His arms come around to hold me as he continues to pulse inside me.
Please, I pray, closing my eyes. But what am I praying for? A baby? Or the unconditional love of my husband?
24
Zev
There isa distinct change in Yael after we fuck that day. She’s freer around me, touching and teasing, but every time we have sex, I still see sadness in her eyes. I know what she’s worried about because I hear it, too. I know what people say about her, because their eyes are on me too. My name is on their tongues as they whisper whether I’m the problem.
Even my own parents have started questioning me.
“So,” my mother says at dinner one night. “Any news?” There’s an expectant twinkle in her eye and an eager smile on her lips as she looks at the two of us, sitting side by side.