Page 43 of Leviticus
RUTH
Did that really just happen? Did I really just hand over my most private, innermost thoughts to a… a… a veritable stranger?! Sure, Levi was my husband, but we didn’t know jack squat about each other. And I just tossed all of those journals, years of my most sacred thoughts, on the table for him to read. I had half a mind to march right back down there, gather them all up, and tell him to figure it out!
But that wouldn’t help us. In the end, I wanted him to trust me, and to trust me, he had to know me. This was the quickest way for him to learn about me. Based on everything he had just explained about himself and the way he humbled himself before me with his honest and forthcoming truth, this was the right call. I steeled myself, resigned to be okay with whatever outcome was coming my way.
I looked around the room, trying to find something to fill the time with, and decided to clean. I had kept the place tidy since the day I arrived, but I needed something more. I found the cleaners beneath the bathroom sink and began scrubbing. I scrubbed and scrubbed until my fingers ached and my fingertips would have been raw had I not been wearing protective(I’m not sure this is entirely needed) gloves.
By the time the bathroom was scrubbed I was winded and a light sheen of sweat covered my lower back and thighs. I moved on to the bedroom, picking up here and there and generally making myself busy. The clock showed 5:30 p.m. and I made my way downstairs to make dinner. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to see Levi or if I wanted him to stay away. If he came out to talk, then he would want to talk about what he had read in my journals. If he stayed sequestered away, then he was still reading my thoughts and ideas. Both ideas had me in a nervous panic.
Instead, I fixed up a quick dinner of leftovers from the week, wanting to finish them off. Nothing fancy, but it was what it was. I set the table and waited for him.
No sign, not a sound.
I went to the study, finding him still sitting, perched hunched over in the mustard yellow chair as he read through one of my journals. I knocked twice, hoping to get his attention, but it was to no avail. He stayed completely engrossed in my words. I turned back to the kitchen, shaking my hands as though it would dispel the nervous energy right out of my fingers.
I covered the plate of food, keeping it for Levi, whenever he got around to eating, and made my way back upstairs. The energy that had been spinning inside of me since our conversation was growing, spinning faster, and consuming me. I paced the bedroom floor again, unsure of what to do but knowing I didn’t want to sit still.
Should I leave him alone and just go to bed? Should I march down there and demand that he talk to me and tell me what he was reading? To tell me his thoughts?
Why hadn’t I grabbed a book from his study before I stormed out? That would have made things much easier. Then i could have escaped into some fantasy world for a time and not thought about the sinfully sensual man a floor below me who was reading my deepest thoughts before determining whether or not he wanted me to kneel and serve him both sexually and maritally.
That thought stopped me dead in my tracks.
Him asking me to kneel before him, just as he had described, making another woman kneel for him. The thought of him with another woman should have made me burn with jealous rage, but it didn’t. That was another life. We both had completely different lives before we had said I do.
No, the thought of him asking me to kneel for him, of sinking to my knees while he gazed upon my form, kneeling just for him… that thought had me vibrating with an entirely different kind of energy. It was the same energy that had spun between us both times he had pressed me against the wall. When he had kissed me, taking my lips like a man dying of thirst would drink from a simple bottle of water. I had felt alive under his kiss, under his touch.
I realized my pacing had ceased. This was ridiculous. I needed to do something, and this wasn’t working. Perhaps a hot shower would ready me for bed and I would be able to sleep. Surely he would be willing to talk tomorrow. Yes, that sounded like a much better idea.
I stripped my clothing off, tossing them into the laundry hamper in the bathroom and started the shower. It was a decadent shower, yet I had not taken the time to enjoy it. Showers were quick, necessary things growing up. But tonight, I was going to enjoy this small bit of decadence.
Steam filled the room slowly and by the time I had stepped foot inside the stall, the steam moved around like fog on the early morning hills. The hot water hit my skin, soothing aches I didn’t realize I was feeling. I made quick work of washing my hair, letting the conditioner sit for a long time while I lathered the sweet-scented sandalwood soap over my skin. It wasn’t a scent I would have ever picked for myself, but there was something earthy, something deep and sensual about it.
I closed my eyes as I moved the suds over my skin. I ran the loofah up over my breasts, taking the time to feel how my nipples hardened under the touch. Was it the touch of the loofah? Or was it the memory of Levi’s fingers doing the exact same thing?
I tilted my head back; the loofah dropping to the ground as I moved the suds over my body, cupping my breasts and remembering his hands on me.
The hot water and the thick, sweet-scented steam set the scene for this fantasy. I imagined him there with me. His body pressing up against mine. Pushing me back against the wall the same way he had done twice before. He could press me against walls for the rest of our days, as far as I was concerned.
My hands grew bolder, one of them tracing down the soft skin of my stomach, past my navel and onwards. I hadn’t touched myself since that day in the bedroom, where I had made myself cum in the bathroom. I hadn’t dared, yet I hadn’t been able to get the thought out of my head.
My fingertips moved between my folds, finding that button of a spot that made my desires soar. That same spot that Levi knew all too well. The tingling started almost immediately, and I moved my finger in a small circle over the nub. My breath released in a heavy sigh as I relaxed into the sensations. The water sluiced down my body, tickling over my nipples and trekking downwards. I imagined Levi’s hands on me. I wanted his touch on me more than almost anything. I wanted him to want me the way I wanted him.
My fingers moved faster, my breath catching on almost every inhale. My mind focused on the way Levi felt, wrapped around me, deep within me, holding me close and making me see stars. My toes curled and my legs began to shake as my orgasm hit.
Through every last shiver that hit my body, I thought of him.
His hands on my body.
His mouth on mine.
His words spoken in my ear.
His eyes piercing into mine.
The last vestiges of euphoria slowly brought me back down to earth, the water still running warm against my skin as I sagged against the wall of the shower, the cool tile a stark juxtaposition to the warmth of the water.
I finished rinsing my hair and tried to push him from my mind. It was impossible. How could I not think of him? How could I not worry what he was thinking about my words?
