Page 85 of Leviticus
“About what?” I interrupted. I knew I should probably have more care for my husband’s mood, but right now, I was confused.
“It’s nothing,” he pandered, brushing my question off inconsequentially. That only fueled my irritation.
“That’s not good enough.”
“Excuse me?” Levi’s words weren’t rude or crass, but they were somewhat shocked. I had rarely spoken to him so forcefully.
“Levi, listen,” I began again, softening my tone and reaching out to lay my hand over one of his. “We have begun this marriage anew, with honesty and an openness I had never expected. Please don’t shut me out now that the honeymoon is over.”
He seemed to muddle over my words for a moment before the expression on his face softened. He flipped his hand over beneath mine and intertwined our fingers.
“You’re right, Ruth. I didn’t think about how that looked. I don’t want our openness or our honesty to go away, especially now that the honeymoon is over,” he began.
“Then don’t shut me out. Please. I know that it’s not my place and I know that —”
“But it is. That’s what we have started here, and it’s … Well, it’s just a much bigger conversation than you even realize,” he cut in. I mulled over his words and I let him have that time. “There are things that I want to tell you, Ruth. But I need you to place your trust in me a little bit. I need you to trust me when I say that I will tell you everything, and soon. There is just much at stake. You see, it doesn’t just affect us. It affects all of us. You, me, and all of my brothers. Can you trust me, for now, that I will tell you very soon. That all will be revealed?”
His words were confusing, almost ominous in tone, but I tried to hear what he was saying.
“The way you are talking, Levi, it sounds like something dangerous. Is everyone okay?”
“Yes, everyone is okay. I don’t mean to sound so serious, but it is serious in the end. I don’t like to speak of things that will affect other people without their permission,” he explained, squeezing my hand in his.
“Is that what you and Malachi were arguing about? Does it have something to do with becoming an Elder?” I asked hesitantly.
“Yes, to both things. So, please just give me a moment to solidify it with everyone involved. I promise I will tell you everything very soon.” I needed no more explanation from him and leaned in to wrap my arms around him, needing to be closer. “For what it’s worth,” he spoke again softly against my temple, “I do not like keeping anything from you. I want there to be honesty between us always.”
I released a breath I had not known I was holding and squeezed him just a little bit tighter.
“I feel the same way. I trust you to tell me in time and will do my best to be patient with it. Though forgive me if I’m not perfect,” I muttered with a small laugh.
“It’s your imperfections that make you perfect in my eyes, Ruth,” he spoke solemnly, honestly. He pulled away so that I could see his face, so that I could see the truth written there in his gaze.
“You make me very happy, Levi,” I spoke honestly, still not quite ready to say the words that lingered there on the tip of my tongue.
“I don’t want to derail this conversation, however —” Levi began, but I didn’t need him to finish his thoughts.
“Touch me, Levi. Please,” I spoke fervently, letting myself open up to the emotions my lips could not speak, letting them shine through my eyes instead. I watched his eyes bounce back and forth, looking into mine, and then his lips were on mine.
We shifted, moved, and rolled together until we were situated on the bed, me beneath him, and him hovering over me as we kissed. His lips touched mine with a reverence I had not felt from him before. There was no hurry, no great rush. He tasted me as though I was the bourbon in his office that he drank on rare occasions. He didn’t drink me in, he savored me. And I did the same of him.
My tongue slipped past his lips, our tongues dancing together slowly, languidly.
“Touch me,” I whispered against his lips and immediately his hands were on me, trailing down my sides and back up again. I reveled in the feel of his touch, sinking deeper into it.
“Levi,” I groaned as his fingers moved a little rougher over my skin. I longed for more. The ache settled deep within my core and wouldn’t let go.
“I want to be gentle, Ruth. I want to go slow and touch every inch of you. I want to, but…” he trailed off, his voice lowering with each word until his need was just as apparent as my own.
“I don’t want gentle, Levi. I want real. I want raw. I want to feel what you feel. I want—” I could not utter a single word more as he almost pounced on me.
His arm reached beneath my upper back and pulled me forcefully up until I was sitting rather than laying. I fell forward against him. Before I could right myself, his hand was at my throat, pushing me back until our eyes met.
“You are mine,” he growled. He stood from the bed, his hand still around my throat with just enough pressure to remind me it was there before he picked me up as though I weight nothing at all. “You are mine and a bed is not where I want to take you.”
My legs wrapped around his hips as he carried me away from our bedroom and into the hallway. We only made it a few steps before he had spun me against the wall, pushing his hips into mind and grinding his erection into my core, where I wanted him most.
“Christ, I can’t get enough of you. One word from you and my need enflames like a wildfire.” His lips found my neck, his teeth grazing and surely leaving marks against my flesh. Marks I craved. Marks I needed.
