Page 70 of Malachi
I clenched my thighs together as we neared, feeling the bite marks he had left there only last night, stinging and sore. I wanted so badly to reach under my dress, to feel the marks there and run my thumb along the jagged line, reddened and bruised by his teeth and tongue. Better yet, I wish we could sit together during the sermon, so he could slip his own hand beneath my simple dress and do it for me.
“Hello, little bird,” Malachi’s voice whispered behind me as we stood in a small cluster, all chatting about this or that. Of course, none of the important topics were being discussed, but as his voice came low and deep from behind me, I felt myself shiver in anticipation.
“Hello, husband,” I greeted, turning and smiling at him. Before I could say more, the sanctuary doors opened and everyone began filtering in, finding their seats for the Reverend’s sermon.
The sermon passed, with very little to gather from it other than the importance of coming together for the greater good and doing the Lord’s work. It was funny, the more I learned about the inner workings of the Elders here in Zion, the more twisted the Reverend’s sermons seemed to be. It was a very typical Sunday sermon, and yet it had all taken on a new meaning.
“Ruth, Delilah, wait up,” Adah called from behind the lot of us as we filed out of the sanctuary an hour later.
“Hello, Adah. Is everything alright?” Delilah greeted, a painfully sweet smile plastered on her face.
“I wanted to invite you all to a women’s luncheon tomorrow at my home.” Well, that sounded simply awful in all ways possible.
“We would love to be there, wouldn’t we, girls?” Ruth answered. If I didn’t know any better, I would say she was genuinely excited about the prospect.
“Wonderful! We will see you there at eleven, then,” Adah said delightedly, before scurrying off in search of her husband.
“Was it just me, or did you actually seem excited by that?” I asked as Ruth and I walked out of the church, following the rest of the Temple family.
“You’re right on that account. What better time to learn all we need to?” she answered, looking at me with a certain sparkle of excitement in her eyes. I hadn’t thought of that. A gathering of women, away from the church, would likely be full of gossip. She was right.
I felt a little spring in my step at the thought of being able to help our husbands in a more concrete way than just supporting their efforts. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.
“So we’ll meet up tonight, just like before,” I heard Levi speaking with the brothers as we neared the cars.
“Sounds like a plan,” Gideon responded, the rest of the brothers nodding their agreement. Malachi steered me towards the truck, helping me into the passenger seat. It wasn’t until we were passing the town sign for Zion that he finally spoke.
“Well, that was fucking hell,” he sighed heavily.
“It couldn’t have been worse than sitting through my Sunday school class,” I chuckled derisively, still agreeing with him.
“What made Sunday school so bad?” he asked, turning to me with interest.
“Well, I just about made a fool of myself, spitting my water out across the table and nearly hitting Ruth’s sister in the face with it,” I exclaimed. His loud guffaw of laughter rang out in the truck's cab.
“What on Earth happened?”
“Let’s just say the topic of this morning’s lesson was quite unexpected and hilarious, at least to us Temple wives,” I giggled.
“Oh, now I have got to hear this,” he urged with a grin. I enjoyed seeing him like this, engaged and smiling.
“Well, the teacher started off the class by saying we would discuss the importance of submission in a marriage,” I explained, watching his face light up with laughter.
“Oh, that’s rich. I bet the lot of you were beside yourselves,” he chuckled.
“Honestly, it was me and Delilah who about lost it. Everyone else held it together with much more class than we did. Especially me,” I admitted.
“Well, spitting your water out across the table was sure to draw attention,” he teased.
“I couldn’t help it. All I could think of was submitting to you for the rest of the class,” I admitted, feeling the heat of a blush tinging my cheeks.
“Is that so?” he said, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
“It is.”
“And just what thoughts were going through that head of yours, little bird?” His words had my thighs clenching again, making me acutely aware of the marks on my thighs once more.
“Let’s just say that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the marks on my thighs ever since Sunday school started,” I confessed.
