Amish Passion (Erotic Romance) (Amish Heart Trilogy) (11 page)

He got up after she did and went into the bathroom.  Does he go into the bathroom and touch himself like I used to when I was living with Ezekiel before Nick came back into my life?  She found the question both intriguing and upsetting.  She wanted to watch and at the same time, didn’t want Nick to be so pent up that he had to resort to manual release. 
She knew Nick would never touch anyone but her, yet she ached with the need to release his sexual energy and hers as well.  She was well aware of her physical and emotional need to be loved. 

With him singing that love song in the shower, she decided what she must do.  Quietly entering the bathroom, she shucked off her clothing and slipped into the shower behind him.  She reached around to his front and massaged his chest.

“Becca!  Wow, girl, you startled me!”  He turned around to face her, taking in her nakedness.  “You look really good.”  Rebekah hesitated. 
You look real good
.  Those are the words Jakob had said to her. 
Shut up!
  She ordered her subconscious. 
I can do this.  I can do this.

“So do you,” she replied.
  He did.  He was all tanned tall muscle and dark curly hair.  Suddenly, she realized she had never wanted him more than she did now.  Not in a physical way, although she wanted to become fully aroused and wanted him inside her.  She wanted him inside her again emotionally, spiritually, to feel their souls intertwine. 

She took soap from the dish and lathered his front well.  Taking his penis into her fingers, she squeezed and pulled and pushed him as she had that first time they had in the shower, delighted to feel the swell of him beneath her hands.  She was surprised to find that even though she hadn’t touched him like this in
a year her hands knew exactly what to do.  They moved up and down along his length fucking him sweetly as if they had a life of their own.  He closed his eyes, put his hands up on her shoulders, and inhaled jaggedly. 
He needs my touch.

“Trade me places.”

He wordlessly did what she asked.  She sat him down in the tub and straddled him. 

“I don’t think there’s roo
m—”

“There’s room.”  She took his swollen cock
with its blue veins sticking out on the side and moved her hips around so that her feminine lips brushed the purplish head in a circle.  Then, she rocked her hips back and forth with him just in her lips slightly.  He groaned with eyes closed. 
I’m teasing him.  And I love it
.  In a little deeper and deeper with each rock forward. 

Nick’s hands went to her hips
.  He was aching, she could tell, to grab her and push himself deep inside of her.  She slapped his hands away, hard.  His eyes flew open wide.

Moving her thighs up and down and her hips rocking back to front at the same time, she advanced on him, with infinitesimal increments. 
Nick’s hands moved, wanting to touch her.  Again, she slapped them away, but then bent down to give him a wet, hot surging kiss of longing.  When she had his cock half-way in her, she withdrew entirely which made him begin to cry out loud.  Before he could complete his utterance, she grasped his erection firmly in her hand and slipped the entire length of it deeply inside of her. With the hot water pelting her back, she began bucking hard, drawing up and away and then down to crush their pelvic bones against each other. 

She allowed him to touch and squeeze her breasts, and kissed him again and again, their mouths forming a union of lips and tongues.  He groaned again, his hips beginning to move in rhythm
with hers.  He reached for her hips, seeking release, and she smacked them one more time.  This time she turned off the shower, stepped out of the tub, and left the bathroom.

“Becca!”  He grabbed a towel and followed her in the bedroom, doubtlessly to apologize, only to find her lying
naked on the bed with a sultry expression on her face.

“Fuck the ever living daylights out of me,” was her request.

He dropped his towel and came to her, once more fully erect. 

He rubbed his five o’clock shadow into her neck, onto her breasts and belly as he kissed her,
bringing her skin into his mouth.  Aching for her for months, he had realized nonetheless that he was going to have to take this slowly.  She realized that as heated as he was, this could go on all night. He followed the redness made on her skin by his beard with his tongue, making lazy swirls.

His tongue
traveled down to her core and he spread her legs wide and delicately scratched her lips and the entrance to her with his beard.  He put his finger inside her, moving it from side to side while his tongue did its work and his teeth teasingly bit her clit, making her cry out with pleasure. 

Bringing up his fevered cock beside her inner
feminine lips, he danced around the outside for a moment or two, while kissing her and letting her taste herself on his mouth and face.  Then swiftly he was inside her. He exited fully and kissed her again, then moved down to lick her nub up the center and around and around, then stick his tongue inside.  He withdrew once more and then—
Oh!—
he was back inside of her hard and deep.  His movements were achingly slow.  Her hips yearned to move, her insides begged to feel him beating inside of her.  In and out and . . . in once more.  She whimpered in frustration, an almost painful passion mounting. 

Still inside her, he got to his knees and pulled her hips up to meet his, pushing himself
yet deeper within her. Clutching her hips captive, he pushed in and out of her, in and out, gaining speed.  She was at once saturated within, the wetness trickling down her buttocks to pool under her lower back. 

He slid her legs over his shoulders and taking his hand, rubbed her silken
bud in cadence to his rhythm.                Her hunger was building.  He whispered, “Let yourself come.  Come for me.”  His speed increased.

She writhed, on the verge of orgasm, yet
not able to go over the brink.  His power escalated, diving into her deeper and harder, still rubbing the nub of her clit up and down the center and she wriggled harder but still could not come. 

Lowering her legs back down, he sat and moved one of her legs in between his.  Then, he took her other leg and s
wung it around, moving her onto her side. In this way, taking her from her side at a ninety degree angle, he thrust in further than he had before with any other position. 
Even deeper than taking me from behind
.  Holding her thigh to hip, he plunged into her over and over again.  Her smoldering need ascended and she let out an impassioned cry for want of release.  Without slowing his beat, Nick took her leg and put it up on his shoulder, now able to access her clit once more.  Moving hot and thick within her, he massaged her clit up and down in accordance with his tempo, her dark desire smashing through her like a cannonball, tearing through all the built up pain, fear, and strain of the past year.  As she came, her inner muscles spasmed wildly out of control, pushing him to his climax.  Nine months had been an eternity to wait. With a loud “Ohhhh!” he erupted into her hot jets of semen.

Their love making was the catharsis to
Rebekah’s crying, cracking open the walls of her battered heart so that the hurt could come gushing out.  And pour out it did, like a river.  She cried like a child.  She cried like the tortured.  She sobbed until she was hoarse and then continued beyond hoarseness to voicelessness.  Nick simply enveloped her with his love and let her mourn, knowing that slowly, she was starting to heal.

A month later, Nick
begged her to let someone babysit Rachel for a few hours and took her out to dinner.  He insisted that she dress up and even bought her some make-up to use if she desired.  After consulting two magazines and three articles online and practicing for several hours, Rebekah decided she could apply mascara.  Lipstick was not so hard.  Rebekah smeared a bit on and rubbed her lips together.
There
.  She was wearing a blue sundress and—
another first
—pierced earrings, although when she first got her ears pierced, she couldn’t imagine why anyone would go to such pain and expense for vanity.  High heels were strictly out, however.  One had to be crazy or an acrobat to wear stilettos.  She stepped back and scrutinized her look in the mirror. 
So different than the Amish girl of a year ago!

Nick wore a charcoal suit of lightweight wool and a shirt
that was stunning in its whiteness.  His hair as usual was tousled dark curls, which she still was tempted to touch every time she looked at them
.  He is so handsome
.  She did not feel guilty for taking pleasure in his non-plainness. Her inner Amish perfectionist had been silenced.

They drove an hour and a half
north to Des Moines.  The restaurant had candles and white linens on the tables and boasted of the highest quality cuts of meat
.  I wonder if they can compare to Amish steaks.
  Nick ordered for both of them and requested champagne with the meal.  Rebekah had never had alcohol before.

It came with strawberries, ripely red and Nick showed her how the fruit enhanced the taste of the beverage.  She took a sip.  Bubbles assaulted her nose, rather like soda, but with more tingles—
like love bumps
—and a warm feeling in her head.  She liked it and took a large gulp.

“Hey, slow down a little, you don’t want to get a headache.”  Nick grinned.  “I don’t mind getting you tipsy, but I don’t want you to get sick.  That would not be fun.”

She took a smaller sip.  And another. 
This is good stuff.
 

Nick smiled, amused.  He took her hand across the table. 

“Becca, I wanted to go out with you tonight because I have something very important to ask you.”  He reached into his suit jacket pocket and withdrew a small square box.  “I was going to wait until after dessert, but I couldn’t.”

She bit her lip, her eyes shining—
could it be?—
and slowly opened it.  Inside was the Irish wedding band that had belonged to his mother.

“Marry me
,” said Nick.

“I’m already legally married.”

“So divorce him and marry me.”

She half-frowned. 
Would Ezekiel ever set me free?  Or would he always want me for his possession even though I am not with him? 
She remembered what he said in the courtroom not so long ago. 
I love her so much.
Not ‘loved,’ as in past tense, but ‘love’ as in right now.

Nick spoke again, pulling her attention back to him. 
“Becca, I love you.  I have from the moment I first laid eyes on you even though you couldn’t even see me.  I couldn’t believe it when I made you fall in love with me.  We have a daughter together.  So, marry me.  Let’s have more kids.  I want this with you, I really want this.”  His grip on her hand increased with his ardor.

He moved to the edge of his seat and
Rebekah was afraid he would slide to the floor and kneel before her like he did the last time he proposed in the hospital restroom.

“You don’t have to beg me,” she assured him. 

“Here, try it on.  I had it sized for you.”

“How did you know my size?” 

“Your leather glove.”

Oh!
  It fit perfectly.  She flashed him a huge smile, all teeth and gums. 

“So that’s a yes?”

She nodded.  “That is a ‘forever yes.’  I am yours forever.”

“Tomorrow we can file divorce papers.”

“Okay.” 
Poor Ezekiel
, she thought,
he will be shamed
. 
And possibly . . . heartbroken?

As if he could read her mind, he said, “You never should have married the guy in the first place.  You should have married me.”

It was true.  She should never have married Ezekiel.  If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have experienced the heartache she did of the last two years.  She wouldn’t have had to endure Polly’s slothfulness, Mother Yoder’s hatefulness, and Ezekiel’s coarse passionless sex.  She never would have been raped by Jakob.  Then she thought of Sarah and had a surprising epiphany.  Maybe Jakob going to jail prevented him from committing further atrocities. 

Rebekah
was a long way from being healed when it came to Jakob.  That healing would come in deep, dark, and sometimes twisted ways.  But come it would.  Maybe the first step, after loving Nick, was being able to see that maybe her pain served a greater purpose.  Maybe her sacrifice helped some other woman or child from something even worse than rape.
If only that were true.  It might make what happened to me a little more bearable.
  She would never know. She only knew that although the nightmares had not ceased, Nick was always there to hold her and keep her and Rachel safe. 

She leaned across the table to kiss the man she loved, the father of her child, her husband in action and soon in name. 

That night in bed after their lovemaking, Nick sang softly to her the lullaby about everyone being wise and finding your heart.  She hugged him tightly.  She had found her heart.  And it was neither Amish nor English; it was simply her heart as it truly had been all along.