Amish Redemption (Erotic Romance) (Amish Heart Trilogy) (9 page)

His eyes were wide open in awe. 
“Yeah.”

“Good.”

She began almost imperceptible rocking her hips back and forth with him barely inside her.  Then slightly in, slightly out.  He lifted his hips to attempt to go deeper within her. 
Whack!
  She put a burning blow to his cheek.

“There will be none of that.  Remember what I said.”

Again, with slight movements she put a tiny bit of him in and out of her.  Then, with unexpected swiftness she brought herself down upon him, burying him deep within her.  He uttered a groan.   With long sweeps, she slid him in . . . and out . . . and in . . . and out.  She moved up and down on his shaft slowly, then quicker.  Passion pooled deep within her, swelling to an ever higher crest with each thrust.

“Watch . . .  what . . . I am doing,” she panted, and rubbed her clit with her fingers in tempo to her hips moving rapidly on his cock. 
Up and down, up and down, and up and down.  No longer able to contain himself, Ezekiel lifted his hips to meet hers and with a cry she fell on him, still bucking her hips, as she climaxed.

He still had not come.

For a long while she couldn’t control her movements while shudders coursed through her body.  Finally she eased away from him and cut his binds.  He sat up, looking at her with intense hunger.

She sat down beside him.  “Do whatever you want.”

She expected him to throw her down and ride her fast with only his own orgasm in mind, but he surprised her.  He smoothed the tip of his thumb against her bottom lip unhurriedly. 

“Oh, Rebekah,” he breathed, “you are quite the woman.”  With trembling lips, he kissed her neck and shoulders, leaving shivers of goose bumps—
love bumps
—in his wake.  His kisses grew with mammoth ravenousness, moving down to possess her breasts and back upward again to lay claim to her mouth once more. She smelled her sex on his beard. He pushed himself on top of her, forcing her down underneath him.  His hardness pressed up against her belly and it made her quake.  She needed him inside her.  She needed him to come inside of her.

He lay on top of her rocking back and forth, up and down as he continued to kiss her
lips, sucking on one lip, then the other.  He parted her legs with his knees and poised himself for a moment within her inner lips.  Then he dove inside of her with such ferocious hunger that it made guttural sounds come to the back of her throat.  Then, he withdrew nearly completely, leaving her to quiver.  He drove deeply again, making her sigh.  In . . . and out . . . and in . . . and out he glided.  Picking up speed, he thrust again and again, deeper and deeper into the center of her.  In and out and in and out.  Over and over again.  Excitement welled up in her once more.  Her hips met his dives with a mind of their own and her feminine muscles tightened around him with each impact. 

She made panicky sounds as his barrage quickened
.
I have to come again.
  The thought held her captive.  He reached down and mimicked the motions she had earlier showed him to arouse her clit.  His fingernails scraped her gently, rapidly in time to his movements. 

It came from a deep place within her
, a place she never thought she would see again.  It broke over her time and again, twisting and contorting her body, making her writhe sensually. Before she could finish, he grabbed her buttocks, pulling her tight to him and fucked her soundly while she screamed.  His pace increased.  He beat into her frantically bringing together all the desire for her he had been haunted by for two years.  His orgasm erupted hotly within her, jerking violently around her while still holding her within his arms.

Afterwards he held her as if he was afraid that if he let go, she might leave again and never return.
She lay with her head on his shoulder and stroked the curly hair on his chest.

“I love you,” he said.  She was silent, not knowing what to say.  Her feelings toward Ezekiel had definitely changed, but she was not certain if she could say that she was in love with him.  He continued,
unabated.  “I know you don’t feel the same way, but do you think you could grow to love me . . . a little?”  He seemed to run out of confidence at the end and the last two words were pleading.

She took a moment to answer.  “These changes in you I am seeing, are they permanent or just to get me back?”

“Both.  They
are
to get you back.  But they are true changes.  They are lasting.”

“No more smoking.” 

“No more smoking,” he promised.

“Wash everyday
—”

“A bath?”
  He was incredulous.  She sighed.  She would miss showers.

“In the wash bowl.”

“Agreed.”

“I expect respect.”

“I respect you.”

“I mean your mother.  If I come back,
she has to respect me.”

“I see.”

She sat up to face him, her mouth pulled in a straight line.  “It’s not negotiable.”

“
Alright.”

“Okay then.”

He brightened.  “So you’ll come back?”

She hadn’t really realized she was making that choice. 
When he had arrived earlier that day, she was prepared to toss him out again.  She needed to think about it.  She had just made love to a man that she had loathed for three years.  A man she hadn’t wanted to marry in the first place . . . a man that had until today disgusted her.  She had, with all fullness of heart, fucked him senseless—and loved every minute of it.  A part of her felt she should feel that she had just betrayed Nick, to have given in so easily.  But another part of her saw that she needed to live in the here and now and not cling to the memory of a man who was gone.  She was young.  Rachel needed a father.  Neither one of them could be kept warm by a ghost.

She couldn’t quite answer Ezekiel’s question, so she asked
him one.  “When did you know about Nick?”

“The day of your cousin’s wedding in Wisconsin.”

Rebekah was floored.  “You knew we—”

“I thought maybe so.”

“Holy shit!”

He cocked an eyebrow at her profanity.

“Why did you marry me, then?” she asked, disbelieving.

His response was simple. 
“Because you would have me.  And then I would have you.”

“But you knew I didn’t love you!  You knew Rachel wasn’t yours!” 

“But it didn’t matter.  I loved you.  I had you as my wife.  He didn’t.”

Rebekah tried to absorb that.  Then she thought of something else that had been troubling her.  “Ezekiel, I am not the same person as I was two years ago.  A lot has happened.  I’ve turned into
an English.”

“No,” he said, patting the area above her heart.  “In here you are Amish and always have been and always will be.”

“What if it doesn’t work?  What if I come back and I can’t stand it?”

Now it was his turn to think before answering.  “If you cannot bear it after a year, then I will release you and help you leave the Community.”

It was more than she could have hoped for.  It was a chance to come back to family, to have a chance at love and to raise her child in a good environment.  It would be an adjustment to come back, but maybe not too big of one and if it proved untenable after one full year, then Ezekiel would help her leave.  She knew she could trust his word on that, however it might pain him.

She looked around and realized that she was
changing residences again, and soon.

“Do you still have any of my clothes around the house?” 

He smiled.

Rebekah finished mashing the potatoes for
supper:  cream from this morning’s milking, butter from the pie safe, salt, pepper and garlic.  They were Ezekiel’s favorite.  She sent Sarah to his woodshop to let him know the meal was ready. 

Stepping
back into Amish life was not as hard as Rebekah had expected it to be.  She found that two years away had not detracted from her home-making skills and she began to enjoy the simple tasks of everyday life.  Sarah, the youngest, had welcomed her back with open arms while the two boys had been more wary.  All members of the family, save one, adopted Rachel like she was a pet. 

Mother Yoder was a bit of a different story.  While she had not yet
openly challenged Rebekah’s return, she wore a constant contemptuous sneer and Rebekah noticed her visibly choking back cruel remarks.  A confrontation was inevitable.

Polly, Ezekiel’s sister was happy to have Rebekah come back, if only because it meant that she, Polly
, would no longer have to work so hard. 

Ezekiel was elated to have her return.  He was true to his word and washed up upon the cessation of work for the day, did not pick up his pipe again, and told her daily that she was adored.  He also, she mused, ardently demonstrated to her how much she enticed him.  She smiled thinking about it.  In the three months since she had been back, they had gotten very little sleep.

Rebekah often still thought about Nick.   She would find herself at odd quiet moments during the day in the bedroom she and Ezekiel shared, with her scriptures open, touching Nick’s handsome face in his photograph.  Nevertheless, the sting of her loss had lessened considerably. Mostly the thoughts came to her when Rachel would say something extraordinarily precocious.  The little girl would always remind Rebekah of her daddy, even though Ezekiel had taken to doting on her, carrying her around the farm on his shoulders and calling her, ‘little mama’ for the way that she played with her many dolls.  At first, Rebekah was concerned that the attention Rachel received and the sheer number of her dolls (Rebekah refused to take any away from her during the move and Ezekiel agreed) would cause jealousy with Sarah.  But Sarah delighted in having a little sister that was old enough to play with and Rachel, due to interaction with other children at her babysitter’s house, had learned to share her toys.

Sarah came bounding into the house
just then, announcing that Ezekiel couldn’t come in and instead wished to see Rebekah in the shop.  Somewhat mystified, Rebekah told Sarah to serve up the dinner on plates and stepped coatless across the yard in the frigid early spring air to the woodshop.

As she entered the shop, Ezekiel wrapped his arms around her
.  “I have to work after supper until late this evening and I couldn’t wait . . .” He nuzzled her cheek. 

“Couldn’t wait
for what?”

             
He pressed her breasts in his hands, breathing hotly on her neck.  “I couldn’t wait for you.”  She kissed him urgently.  They had spent the last three months in a near continuous state of yearning for one another.  He grasped her bottom in his hands, pulling her against him to rub his erection into her through their clothing.  Fire quickly ignited between her thighs and spread in all directions.  She sighed, melting into his movements.

             
Dinner momentarily forgotten, he lifted her up to sit on the edge of his work table. He bussed her thoroughly, permitting his mouth to travel over her face and neck, while he yanked off her bloomers and tossed them aside.  His fingers rushed to enliven her clit, stoking her up and down . . . and up and up faster and faster until his fingers slipped inside her. 

             
“Mein Gott!  So wet!” 

             
Her slipperiness galvanized him.  He desperately slid his suspenders down and pulled at the hooks on his pants, tearing his erection free.  Just the sight of his naked cock moved her.  Sharp pangs of need jolted through her and she wrapped her naked legs around his hips, her own upward to lightly rub her sex against his.  She could feel their juices mixing.

             
He clinched her buttocks, positioning his erection directly at her entrance . . . and waited.  She whined, impatiently, directly meeting his eyes.  She had never seen them so blue. 

             
Penetration was deliciously abrupt.  Her breath hitched as he thrust into her again and again, holding her bottom close to his raging hips.  He splayed her legs so far apart it almost pained her with each drive.  Yet the discomfort only mingled with the glorious stirrings that his cock was exciting within her. He nudged her to lie back on the table and he took her buttocks in his hands, ramming himself even deeper inside her.  In and out and in and out.  He was deeply bombarding the apex where her core began.  The need within her was being pulled unbearably taut.  Her desperation for release was burning her.

             
Rough and frenetic, he thrashed into her and she wrapped her legs around his hips once more, hooking them together at the ankles.  She began making panicky breathy sounds, low at first, then becoming higher and more primal as his pitch grew.  She screamed without reserve as she climaxed, the tension in her body pulverizing into the near blindness of ecstasy.  Her excitement drove him over the edge and he threw himself around her, clutching her close as he came, concussing his entire form against her.

             
Afterwards, they burst through the door together giggling like children while the rest of the family stared at them from the dining room table over untouched plates.  The disquiet in the room was palpable.
Oh, shit.

             
Mother Yoder rose up from the table, a hostile finger pointed at Rebekah.

             
“If you weren’t constantly running like a bitch in heat, our dinner wouldn’t have gotten cold!”  She spat in Rebekah’s general direction.  Icy guilt washed over Rebekah.  “But there you are, all full of filth, all hot and bothered, bringing this—” Mother Yoder’s finger shifted to Rachel, “—bastard into my house for all the world to see!  What other trash are you going to drag in here?”  She was fairly screaming. 

             
Ezekiel turned stony.  He sat down silently in his chair at the head of the table.  Rebekah froze, her face scorched with shame. 
How does she know?  Did Ezekiel tell his mother about Rachel?
  A sick sense of betrayal settled over her. 
So this is how it’s going to be. 
All eyes except those of her husband were upon her. 

             
Crash!
  Ezekiel’s fist came smashing down upon the table, making everybody jump, including his mother.  “As long as I live and breathe, don’t you dare talk that way to my wife again!  As far as my daughter goes, if you ever tell such evil lies about her again, you will find yourself without a home.”

             
Mother Yoder had gone pale.  She sputtered.  “B-but I can’t have such behavior in my house—”

             
“This isn’t
your
house.” 

             
“What?  I’m your mother—”

             
Ezekiel indicated Rebekah.  “It’s her house.  You offend her, you can leave.”

             
Rebekah nodded gratefully at Ezekiel as she took her place on the wooden bench beside his chair.  During the silent prayer, he reached for her hand and placed it on the erection in his pants. 
Is this man insatiable?
  She widened her eyes at him, open mouthed.  He grinned and shrugged. 
Oh, that I could be so lucky,
she thought. 
Oh, that I might be so blessed.

             
A week later, her state of bliss threatened to come to an abrupt, screeching halt.