Afterwards he held her as if he was afraid that if he let go, she might leave again and never return. She lay with her head on his shoulder and stroked the curly hair on his chest.
“I love you,” he said. She was silent, not knowing what to say. Her feelings toward Ezekiel had definitely changed, but she was not certain if she could say that she was in love with him. He continued, unabated. “I know you don’t feel the same way, but do you think you could grow to love me . . . a little?” He seemed to run out of confidence at the end and the last two words were pleading.
She took a moment to answer. “These changes in you I am seeing, are they permanent or just to get me back?”
“Both. They are to get you back. But they are true changes. They are lasting.”
“No more smoking.”
“No more smoking,” he promised.
“Wash everyday—”
“A bath?” He was incredulous. She sighed. She would miss showers.
“In the wash bowl.”
“Agreed.”
“I expect respect.”
“I respect you.”
“I mean your mother. If I come back, she has to respect me.”
“I see.”
She sat up to face him, her mouth pulled in a straight line. “It’s not negotiable.”
“Alright.”
“Okay then.”
He brightened. “So you’ll come back?”
She hadn’t really realized she was making that choice. When he had arrived earlier that day, she was prepared to toss him out again. She needed to think about it. She had just made love to a man that she had loathed for three years. A man she hadn’t wanted to marry in the first place . . . a man that had until today disgusted her. She had, with all fullness of heart, fucked him senseless—and loved every minute of it. A part of her felt she should feel that she had just betrayed Nick, to have given in so easily. But another part of her saw that she needed to live in the here and now and not cling to the memory of a man who was gone. She was young. Rachel needed a father. Neither one of them could be kept warm by a ghost.
She couldn’t quite answer Ezekiel’s question, so she asked him one. “When did you know about Nick?”
“The day of your cousin’s wedding in Wisconsin.”
Rebekah was floored. “You knew we—”
“I thought maybe so.”
“Holy shit!”
He cocked an eyebrow at her profanity.
“Why did you marry me, then?” she asked, disbelieving.
His response was simple. “Because you would have me. And then I would have you.”
“But you knew I didn’t love you! You knew Rachel wasn’t yours!”
“But it didn’t matter. I loved you. I had you as my wife. He didn’t.”
Rebekah tried to absorb that. Then she thought of something else that had been troubling her. “Ezekiel, I am not the same person as I was two years ago. A lot has happened. I’ve turned into an English.”
“No,” he said, patting the area above her heart. “In here you are Amish and always have been and always will be.”
“What if it doesn’t work? What if I come back and I can’t stand it?”
Now it was his turn to think before answering. “If you cannot bear it after a year, then I will release you and help you leave the Community.”
It was more than she could have hoped for. It was a chance to come back to family, to have a chance at love and to raise her child in a good environment. It would be an adjustment to come back, but maybe not too big of one and if it proved untenable after one full year, then Ezekiel would help her leave. She knew she could trust his word on that, however it might pain him.
She looked around and realized that she was changing residences again, and soon.
“Do you still have any of my clothes around the house?”
He smiled.
Chapter Eleven
Rebekah finished mashing the potatoes for supper: cream from this morning’s milking, butter from the pie safe, salt, pepper and garlic. They were Ezekiel’s favorite. She sent Sarah to his woodshop to let him know the meal was ready.
Stepping back into Amish life was not as hard as Rebekah had expected it to be. She found that two years away had not detracted from her home-making skills and she began to enjoy the simple tasks of everyday life. Sarah, the youngest, had welcomed her back with open arms while the two boys had been more wary. All members of the family, save one, adopted Rachel like she was a pet.
Mother Yoder was a bit of a different story. While she had not yet openly challenged Rebekah’s return, she wore a constant contemptuous sneer and Rebekah noticed her visibly choking back cruel remarks. A confrontation was inevitable.
Polly, Ezekiel’s sister was happy to have Rebekah come back, if only because it meant that she, Polly, would no longer have to work so hard.
Ezekiel was elated to have her return. He was true to his word and washed up upon the cessation of work for the day, did not pick up his pipe again, and told her daily that she was adored. He also, she mused, ardently demonstrated to her how much she enticed him. She smiled thinking about it. In the three months since she had been back, they had gotten very little sleep.
Rebekah often still thought about Nick. She would find herself at odd quiet moments during the day in the bedroom she and Ezekiel shared, with her scriptures open, touching Nick’s handsome face in his photograph. Nevertheless, the sting of her loss had lessened considerably. Mostly the thoughts came to her when Rachel would say something extraordinarily precocious. The little girl would always remind Rebekah of her daddy, even though Ezekiel had taken to doting on her, carrying her around the farm on his shoulders and calling her, ‘little mama’ for the way that she played with her many dolls. At first, Rebekah was concerned that the attention Rachel received and the sheer number of her dolls (Rebekah refused to take any away from her during the move and Ezekiel agreed) would cause jealousy with Sarah. But Sarah delighted in having a little sister that was old enough to play with and Rachel, due to interaction with other children at her babysitter’s house, had learned to share her toys.
Sarah came bounding into the house just then, announcing that Ezekiel couldn’t come in and instead wished to see Rebekah in the shop. Somewhat mystified, Rebekah told Sarah to serve up the dinner on plates and stepped coatless across the yard in the frigid early spring air to the woodshop.
As she entered the shop, Ezekiel wrapped his arms around her. “I have to work after supper until late this evening and I couldn’t wait . . .” He nuzzled her cheek.
“Couldn’t wait for what?”
He pressed her breasts in his hands, breathing hotly on her neck. “I couldn’t wait for you.” She kissed him urgently. They had spent the last three months in a near continuous state of yearning for one another. He grasped her bottom in his hands, pulling her against him to rub his erection into her through their clothing. Fire quickly ignited between her thighs and spread in all directions. She sighed, melting into his movements.
Dinner momentarily forgotten, he lifted her up to sit on the edge of his work table. He bussed her thoroughly, permitting his mouth to travel over her face and neck, while he yanked off her bloomers and tossed them aside. His fingers rushed to enliven her clit, stoking her up and down . . . and up and up faster and faster until his fingers slipped inside her.
“Mein Gott! So wet!”
Her slipperiness galvanized him. He desperately slid his suspenders down and pulled at the hooks on his pants, tearing his erection free. Just the sight of his naked cock moved her. Sharp pangs of need jolted through her and she wrapped her naked legs around his hips, her own upward to lightly rub her sex against his. She could feel their juices mixing.
He clinched her buttocks, positioning his erection directly at her entrance . . . and waited. She whined, impatiently, directly meeting his eyes. She had never seen them so blue.
Penetration was deliciously abrupt. Her breath hitched as he thrust into her aga
in and again, holding her bottom close to his raging hips. He splayed her legs so far apart it almost pained her with each drive. Yet the discomfort only mingled with the glorious stirrings that his cock was exciting within her. He nudged her to lie back on the table and he took her buttocks in his hands, ramming himself even deeper inside her. In and out and in and out. He was deeply bombarding the apex where her core began. The need within her was being pulled unbearably taut. Her desperation for release was burning her.
Rough and frenetic, he thrashed into her and she wrapped her legs around his hips once more, hooking them together at the ankles. She began making panicky breathy sounds, low at first, then becoming higher and more primal as his pitch grew. She screamed without reserve as she climaxed, the tension in her body pulverizing into the near blindness of ecstasy. Her excitement drove him over the edge and he threw himself around her, clutching her close as he came, concussing his entire form against her.
Afterwards, they burst through the door together giggling like children while the rest of the family stared at them from the dining room table over untouched plates. The disquiet in the room was palpable. Oh, shit.
Mother Yoder rose up from the table, a hostile finger pointed at Rebekah.
“If you weren’t constantly running like a bitch in heat, our dinner wouldn’t have gotten cold!” She spat in Rebekah’s general direction. Icy guilt washed over Rebekah. “But there you are, all full of filth, all hot and bothered, bringing this—” Mother Yoder’s finger shifted to Rachel, “—bastard into my house for all the world to see! What other trash are you going to drag in here?” She was fairly screaming.
Ezekiel turned stony. He sat down silently in his chair at the head of the table. Rebekah froze, her face scorched with shame. How does she know? Did Ezekiel tell his mother about Rachel? A sick sense of betrayal settled over her. So this is how it’s going to be. All eyes except those of her husband were upon her.
Crash! Ezekiel’s fist came smashing down upon the table, making everybody jump, including his mother. “As long as I live and breathe, don’t you dare talk that way to my wife again! As far as my daughter goes, if you ever tell such evil lies about her again, you will find yourself without a home.”
Mother Yoder had gone pale. She sputtered. “B-but I can’t have such behavior in my house—”
“This isn’t your house.”
“What? I’m your mother—”
Ezekiel indicated Rebekah. “It’s her house. You offend her, you can leave.”
Rebekah nodded gratefully at Ezekiel as she took her place on the wooden bench beside his chair. During the silent prayer, he reached for her hand and placed it on the erection in his pants. Is this man insatiable? She widened her eyes at him, open mouthed. He grinned and shrugged. Oh, that I could be so lucky, she thought. Oh, that I might be so blessed.
A week later, her state of bliss threatened to come to an abrupt, screeching halt.
Chapter Twelve
She didn’t expect it to happen in the middle of the day. No, in fact, she hadn’t envisioned it happening at all. She had been folding laundry and was beginning to put it away when she entered her bedroom to find Ezekiel sitting on their bed with her scriptures in his lap. They were opened to pages where Nick’s rose had been pressed. In his hand was the photograph of Nick. Turbulence hooded Ezekiel’s eyes.
Chilly sourness pitted Rebekah’s stomach.
He was fairly trembling with wrath. “How could you bring a graven image of him into our home?”
She didn’t answer.
He repeated himself, “How could you?”
“You went through my private things—”
It was the wrong thing to say. In the Amish Community, a wife’s possessions are the property of her husband. She has no privacy from him. Rankled, Ezekiel held up the photograph in his hands and ripped it in two.
“No!”
Ezekiel ignored her and held the two halves together ripping again, then again, until the picture was in shreds. He threw the pieces at her, which fluttered to the wood floor.
Incensed, Rebekah dropped the laundry on the floor and strode over to him. She raised her hand against him, leaving an angry blow on his cheek. He jumped off the bed, sending her Bible flying and snared her wrists in his hard hands. Spinning her around, he forced her down on the bed, pinning her with his body against the mattress.
“You are my wife!” His outrage turned his face red and eyes icy blue. “You are my wife,” he shouted at her again. Her mind raced. What is he going to do? Hit me or what? She didn’t have to wonder long. He pushed himself firmly against her, prodding her with his erection.
Instantaneously her mind broke: Jakob. She struggled against him. “No!” He laughed. Unable to move her arms, she attempted to rail against him with her feet but to no avail. Her exertions only served to arouse him further. Fuck! This is where Jakob gets it from! Then, her brain did a dangerous twist: images of Nick tying her up and play raping her came rushing back to her. Sensation prickled hotly from between her legs.
Ezekiel took both of her wrists in one broad hand and with his other hand, pulled up her dress and pushed his way into her underpants. She strained opposing him right until the moment when his legs kicked hers apart and his fingers discovered the slipperiness of her folds.
All the anger swept out of him replaced by a mix of wonder, bewilderment, affection. “Mein Gott,” he whispered, “it’s me you want after all.”
Lacking a verbal response, she lifted her chin and ran her tongue lightly along his bottom lip. His lips enfolded her tongue. Softly, he chewed on her upper, then lower lip, working from corner to corner of her mouth. His tongue flicked mildly around hers and at once the sensation between her legs took flame. It leaped down her thighs, up into her belly and into her breasts.
Eagerly, Ezekiel was unpinning her dress, laying open her naked chest. Wolfish, he attacked her breasts with both hands and a needy mouth, pulling and twisting the nipple of one while busily sucking on the nipple of the other. The fire in her was causing the juices of her arousal to drip down her backside and she shimmied her groin against him.
Incensed, he sat her up and tore her dress from her. Next, her bloomers came away and were thrown across the room. He tussled out of his clothing and stood before her nude and fully engorged. She sighed and, leaning back and opening her thighs wide, she teased him mercilessly. She rubbed her clit with a finger up and down sensually, then around and around her orifice. His expression was starved, enraptured. She slid a finger inside of her while crooking the finger on the other hand in a beckoning gesture.
He came to her, rubbing his cock into her folds. She arched her back and pushed up to meet him. He tugged at her nipples once again, creating an even more intense conflagration of desire to rise within her.
He penetrated her with unbearable slowness, millimeter, by millimeter. She cried out, bucking her hips upward in frustration. She wanted him inside her now. Now! While she had battled only seconds ago to keep him from touching her, she now had to have him fully submersed within her. He laughed at her efforts, and further pushed her thighs apart with his knees, making her unable to move. He continued to dance in and out of her languidly with long strokes while perched up on his arms, bending his head so he could watch himself fuck her.
In . . . and out . . . and in . . . and out. His cock moved with aching leisure through her and while she gurgled a scream in the back of her throat in frustration, she knew that Ezekiel had built up a huge head of steam and that this was going to take a long time.
“Touch me,” she begged.
His eyes glinted mischief. “Why should I?”
She whined. “Because I’m your wife and I want you.”
He looked on the floor at the demolished photograph. His eyes misted icily. “I don’t know. I think you need to be reminded.” He took another slide inside and out of her.
“Reminded of what?” What is God’s name did he mean?
He slammed into her forc
efully. She winced. “Of whose wife you really are.” He careened again inside her. The pain bred with her extreme excitation and his angry thrusts created thrills of pleasure deep within.
She rose up to meet his face, giving him a honeyed kiss upon the lips, followed by a naughty bite. “Then remind me. Please.”
The ice instantly melted from his eyes, leaving him hungry once more. He blasted inside her moving in and out and in and out over and again impetuous to anything except the burning need within them both. She swam in tidal pools of intense gratification and suffering, each of his strikes leaving her all the more ravenous.
His cock seized her over and over again, greedy in its dives into her core. He bludgeoned his love, need and covetousness into her. Without warning, he withdrew completely.
“On your hands and knees. I know what you’ll like.”
His voice made a hollow place in her chest. On your hands and knees. I know what you whores like. Isn’t that what his son, Jakob had said? Rebekah began to shiver.
“No, Ezekiel—”
Whap! He slapped her thigh, hard. She flinched. “I said, on your hands and knees.” Oh, God, no. Images of Jakob jabbed her mind. Oh, no, this can’t be happening again. Shakily, she got on her hands and knees to obey her husband. They had no ‘safe word’ to use.
He entered her again with an “Ah!” escaping from his lips. She was quivering from apprehension but also—was it excitement? Did not knowing how he was going to fuck her turn her on? Was it wondering how out of control he could get? Or was it something darker: that she longed for the dangerous? She suddenly wanted him to do his worst. She turned her torso to hand him a cuff on his face. It glanced off his nose, but the effect was immediate. He twisted her arm behind her back with one mighty hand while abrading her backside harshly with the other. Slap! Slap! Slap! Meanwhile his cock rode her —Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Amish Redemption (Erotic Romance) (Amish Heart Trilogy) Page 8
