Page 51 of Ceremony of Lust

“Yael, you can ask anything of me, and if it’s within my power, I’ll give it to you. But don’t ask me for a divorce.”

“Then fuck me.” She meets me with a defiant yet defeated stare. “I want you to fuck me. Hard. Make it hurt. Erase everything I feel inside and replace it with something raw and more primal.”

My hands sift through her long, dark strands of hair. “Yael,” I whisper. “You don’t know what you’re asking me to do.”

She drops to her knees and then reaches up, her hands grasping my belt. Her fingers work the buckle free and slide the black leather through the metal clasp. Then she works the button of my jeans free and spreads them open.

“I know what I want, Zev. I need to feel something else right now.”

“This is your last chance, Yael, to change your mind.” My fingers skim her jaw. “Do you really think you’re ready for the big bad wolf to come out?”

Her hand covers my quickly hardening cock. “Do your worst.”

I use my size and proximity to back her against the wall. She scurries, still on her knees, into place like a frightened cat but looks up at me with dark, expectant eyes.

“Open your mouth,” I command as I free my cock with one hand before shoving my jeans and underwear down my thighs.

Her pink lips part, and her tongue darts out, waiting for its first taste. This is new territory for us. I’ve longed to take her without abandon, but when I think about the things I want to do to her, I remember her age. She’s so young, yet here she is, suffering the heavy burden of disappointment women much older than her experience. Over the past four months, her youth has slowly disappeared.

I reach down and guide the tip of my cock to her tongue. Then with my hands braced on the wall, I drive deep into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat almost instantly. She chokes and gags around my length, and I pull back immediately.

“Give me your hands,” I growl. She lifts her arms, and I pin her wrists above her head, holding them tightly against the wall as I mercilessly fuck her mouth.

Her face reddens, and saliva drips from the corners of her lips, but she lets me use her. She breathes heavily through her nose as she sputters from a mouth full of my cock, but she never asks for mercy.

Reluctantly, I release her hands, pounding my fist in the wall as I step back. “I can’t do this,” I grit out. “I can’t just use you like a whore. You’re my wife. You deserve better.”

“No,” she cries out, slapping her hands against my bare thighs. “I know what I’m asking for. Now, give it to me.”

I step out of my jeans but pull up my boxer briefs. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I won’t hurt you.”

I pick up my pants from the floor and leave her in the bathroom. It must seem like a cruel and cold thing to do, but she needs to think about what she’s asking of me. If she were anyone else, I wouldn’t think twice. I’ve done it before, and if I wasn’t married, I would probably do it again.

But I respect Yael too much to degrade her.

I catch sight of my reflection in a mirror as I walk down the hallway toward our bedroom and stop.My, my, my, I silently tell my reflection, marriage has tamed the wolf.

“Zev!” Yael shouts. Her quick footsteps slap against the floor.

When she reaches the end of the hall, I hold up my hands in surrender. “Let it go, Yael.”

She shakes her head. “No, I won’t let it go. Ineedyou.Now.” As if to emphasize her point, she reaches for the hem of her black dress and yanks it up and over her head before letting it drop to the floor. She makes her way toward me, keeping her gaze locked on me as she unclasps her bra and then shimmies out of the matching pair of panties. When she’s right in front of me, completely bare, she grabs my hand and presses it between her thighs. “Fuck me,” she demands.

“No,” I growl. “Stop pushing.”

She guides my hand back and forth between her folds, using it to pleasure herself. “Fuck me,” she demands again. This time, her voice is breathless.

I pull my hand back and tell her again, “No,” before walking away.

“It’s not fair,” she calls out, stopping me in my tracks. “You can have children. You’re not the problem. I am.”

I spin and stalk my way back to where she’s still standing in the middle of the hallway. “How many times do I have to tell you? You’re young, only eighteen. Stop putting so much pressure on yourself to get pregnant.”

“It’s what’s expected of me!”

“By whom? Me? ’Cause I don’t give a fuck, Yael.”

“The Elders! Everyone in fucking Ripley!”