Page 24 of Leviticus
“Do you have an interest in gardening, Ruth?” I asked, attempting to pull her back into conversation.
“Yes. I did quite a bit of gardening at home, well, rather my parent’s home, as well as tending to the chickens,” she answered quietly.
“Chickens? Goodness, Malachi would love you,” I chuckled, thinking of all the animals Kai wanted to own and how badly he wanted a self-sustaining lifestyle. When I looked back at Ruth, however, she looked anything but happy. Her shoulders had dropped lower and her head hung down in an air of defeat.
“What’s wrong?” I asked quietly, keeping my voice gentle.
“I just wonder what it is you think,” she whispered.
“What I think about what?”
“About me?” she responded, still unwilling to lift her eyes to me.
“I’m confused.”
“You said that Malachi would love me because I enjoy gardening and tending to things like chickens. I don’t want to know what Malachi thinks of me. I want to know what you think of me, Levi,” she finally sighed, and I understood.
“Ruth, look at me. Please.” I purposely kept my tone soft and gentle. “I think that you are an incredibly strong and wonderful woman. One I don’t know very well yet, but I hope to in time. And with that being said, I also want to apologize.”
“Apologize?” That got her attention. “For what?”
“For my behavior last night. I should never have pushed you to… well, to that,” I admitted heavily.
“I don’t need an apology, Levi. You’re my husband and —”
“Husband or not, I need you to know that I am not the kind of man who will force himself on a woman,” I interrupted.
“You think I don't know that?” she asked with such genuine honesty it took my breath away.
“I don’t think you understand yet.”
“I understand more than you think,” she mumbled under her breath.
We continued to eat after that in companionable silence. It wasn’t awkward, nor was it exactly comfortable. The way she ate drew my eyes to her over and over.
Eating was such a menial thing that most never truly thought about, but my god was it sensual. The way her lips parted before she wrapped her lips around her utensil. The way a particularly good bite would make her close her eyes and moan softly like it was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted. It had me wondering what sounds she would make as she wrapped her lips around my cock. It had me wondering what sounds she would make as I let my tongue taste her for the first time.
I shook the thoughts from my head. I was being ridiculous. It wasn’t as if we were ever going to get to that point. This wasn’t a true marriage. Not really. Sure, I would keep up appearances, but the goal had not changed. I was going to keep this facade of a marriage until each of my brothers had married and we could get away safely, offering our wives a chance at a new life should they want it.
“Please know. I just don’t want to rush. I promise, that’s it, Ruth.” I tried to assuage her concerns. She looked up at me with a small smile and we left it there. “Why don’t you go enjoy the rest of your evening and I’ll take care of the dishes.”
“Levi, you really don’t -”
“Hush, lovely. I insist.” She seemed to mull it over for a moment before finally giving in and leaving the table. With a deep sigh I gathered our dishes and began cleaning up. I was no stranger to it, and honestly, I couldn’t figure out why so many men took issue with such things. It wasn’t like we hadn’t lived on our own before our wives joined us. I knew how to keep a clean and tidy house. It was asinine to assume my wife would take care of everything, waiting on me hand and foot.
My submissive, however….
No. I wouldn’t go there. Ruth was barely my wife, and definitely not my submissive. Telling her that part of my truth, that deep-seated secret, would certainly scar her for life and have her running for the hills. Or worse - to Reverend Jacob and my father.
The dishes took almost no time at all, and I glanced around the kitchen, proud of the state of things. The clock read only 8:00 p.m. and yet, an early night to bed and a long session of sleep felt like just what the doctor had ordered. This marriage business took more out of me than I cared to admit.
I made my way up the stairs, keeping an eye out for Ruth as I moved through the house. I had wondered where she had gone off to after dinner, though I didn’t want to disturb her. Perhaps she had found a book in the study to read and was tucked away in a corner somewhere, lost in another world. The image brought a smile to my face. As I walked into the bedroom, however, I realized I was wrong. She was not tucked away in some place reading some fantastical book. The mirror across from me was angled unintentionally and showed exactly where she was: lying beautifully amongst a sea of bubbles in the oversized bathtub in the bathroom. With the door open.
I couldn’t see much at all, just the angled crook of one knee that had risen out of the water, her soft shoulders, her head lying back against the lip with the most serene look of bliss on her face.
I didn’t dare make a sound. The scent of eucalyptus and mint wafted into the room as I watched the steam rise from the tub, off of her pink tinged skin. Slowly, as quietly as I could, I backed out of the room and practically ran down the stairs.
The images of her there in that tub wouldn’t erase. I slammed the door to my study and paced back and forth. Her skin, velvety in the heated water as my hands roamed over her skin. Her sighs and soft gasps as I explored every inch of her. The way her legs would part under my tutelage, letting my fingers run over her swollen and dripping slit.
