Page 62 of Ceremony of Lust
I grin, knowing how easily I can torture her, but I need the same thing. Denying her would be to deny myself.
“Press your legs together,” I command with a firm press to her hip. Her legs inch closer together, and as my cock slides in and out, it hits her clit over and over.
She mewls, the high-pitched sounds filling the air until her eyes clamp shut, and she bares her teeth. Her orgasm rockets through her, causing her to shake and shiver. My own release is so close that I can feel it in the way my spine tingles and my balls draw up tightly until, at last, I explode into her with a snarling growl.
I collapse on top of her, my hands gripping her waist as my cock still pulses inside her. I dot her shoulders with kisses before finding the strength to stand. “I have news of my own,” I rasp out, inhaling deeply to catch my breath while I unwrap the fabric from around her hands.
Stepping back, I slide out of her, and as she straightens, she shoots me a surprised look. “What news?”
“We can close on our house tomorrow,” I tell her.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
I chuckle softly. “Because you were too eager for my cock. I wasn’t going to stop you.”
She playfully shoves at my chest. “That’s no excuse.”
I follow her into the bathroom, ready to clean up, but the chime of the doorbell interrupts us. I wrap a towel around my waist and head to the foyer to check the security camera. It’s Henry, a man I haven’t talked to since before I married Yael.
I press the red speaker button and talk into it. “Henry, what are you doing here?”
His eyes scan the lobby. “I need to talk with you.”
I sigh with annoyance. “It’s late. Can we talk tomorrow?”
On the screen, I see him shake his head frantically. “No, Zev. It’s important we talk now.”
I roll my eyes, but what could be the harm? I send the elevator down to collect him and then scramble to get dressed.
When he arrives, the first thing he says is, “Have you seen the news?”
“No, Henry. What’s going on?”
He rushes forward in search of the living room. “Turn it on,” he insists. “Right now.”
I follow him and, from the corner of my eye, I spot Yael standing in the doorway of our bedroom. I hold up a hand, urging her to stay put even though I’m positive she won’t.
“Tell me what’s wrong.” I turn the television on and then hand Henry the remote so he can find the right news channel.
“That woman you were with the last time I saw you? She’s dead.”
“Leann?” I breathe out.
Just as I turn to face the television, her face pops up on the screen, along with the headline: “BODY OF MISSING WOMAN FOUND.”
“Shit,” I mutter, listening to the story.
“The body of 30-year-old Leann Devereaux was found early this morning along the banks of the Ripley River, approximately ten miles outside of town. She had been missing for nearly three months, and the search had all but been abandoned. The body is with the coroner and cause of death is yet to be determined. This is a breaking news story, and we will continue to keep you updated.”
“How long have they been looking for her?” I ask Henry, but I’m distracted by the gasp I hear.
Yael is standing in front of the television, watching as the story replays. She turns toward me with wide eyes, her face white with fear. She opens her mouth, but I give her a look that makes it snap shut.
“So you were chosen after all,” Henry says as he glances back and forth between us. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” I say solemnly. “Tell me how long she’s been missing.”
“I don’t know, to be honest. I went out of town for a while, and when I saw the news, I had to come here. The police might question you.”