Covet Not (7 page)

IX

He had been told
long before he was to take a bride that it was important–
imperative
–to
assert his place on top of her, between spread thighs, claiming relentlessly
that which belonged to him. Her opinion forever insignificant.

He
had never been told that a thirst so indelible could suffocate every blessed
second. That an unsated hunger would leave him unsettled and a little
terrified. 

That
he would need those same thighs to spread for want of him.

It
had been several months, but the gift of her was still overwhelming.

“Did
your mother ever
call
you Shulamith,” Jared asked innocently. He had
been watching her for a short time as she methodically and efficiently chopped
the onions, carrots, and potatoes for their stew. She was more adept with the
large knife than even he was. He wasn't quite sure why kitchen work made such a
difference. Maybe it didn't, and Shula was just very good with her hands.

He
didn't know why he enjoyed watching it.

She
gasped as the knife slipped from her grasp and she nicked the tip of her
fingertip holding down an onion. He was at her side grasping her hand with
muttered apologies. He had meant to shock her with his new found knowledge, but
he hadn't meant to hurt her. She pressed her lips together, because she didn't
want to complain.

She
gasped again when he pressed her finger in his mouth. “I won't tell anyone,” he
whispered.

“How
did you find out?” She was afraid she might cry. She hated being named for a
harem girl. She liked to believe that her mother did it to make a point.

“I
didn't really. Your name. Shula. I've never heard it. I looked through some
genealogy information online and no one on either your mother or your father's
side shared that name. But, everyone had sacred names. First and middle. I saw
a smudge by yours.”

“Father.
He was ashamed. He tried to change it. But, it was too long–”

“Shh.
Not now. Later.” His hands moved to both hips. He gripped tightly, and lifted
her easily onto the counter. She sucked in a breath and held onto him tightly.
The light in the room was waning, but it was the brightest light he'd ever been
so close to her in.

He
loved it when she was supplicant under him, trying to hide, trying not to
spread her legs wider. He loved that by the end, she's panting in his mouth,
with her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. She was his completely, and he
never had to ask. She just gave.

He
found himself wanting her to want him. Was it fair for him to ask for that when
she hadn't a choice previously? He frowned and stepped back a few inches.

She
dropped her hands from his shoulders. “Have I done something to...displease
you?”

He
opened his mouth, then closed it. It took a few moments to speak. “You are my
wife.”

She
nodded, unsure of his point.

“We
didn't get to choose, but I was happy at the wedding, unexpected though it
was.” He stepped in close to her again, and her legs spread for him. He pressed
both fists on either side of her hips. “You were my punishment, and I think
it's the grandest cosmic joke ever.”

“You're
behaving strangely.”

He
knew that he was, but something about her today...the novelty of having her was
evolving into a near disbelief. He laughed quietly, and moved in slowly. “I am
your
shepherd,” he whispered close to her ear.

“My
shepherd? I don't understand.”

“Do
you know what Shulamith means?” He breathed against her cheek.

She
shook her head, more to clear it than to exclaim a negative. “Father says that
it was just another woman in Solomon's harem. I tried to read more about it,
but Father kept the Bible under lock and key.”

Jared
hadn't any sisters, so it was a strange concept to him. “Shulamith was married
to Solomon, but she was in love with a shepherd. I think your mother named you
thus, in protest.”

A
bit of a weight lifted. “How would she have known?”

“She
had many brothers, did she not?” Jared asked patiently.

“Yes,”
Shula breathed. She felt tears prickle her eyes. Her mother wanted her to love.
Of course she did. What mother wouldn't? “Our children. I don't–”

“Shhh.
We're not having children until my father is dead. There wasn't a child clause
in the contract your father signed with mine, and there wasn't a new one.”

Shula
breathed out, relieved. It was foolish that this was their first discussion
about it. Then she remembered. “You want to be my shepherd.”

“Yes,”
he hissed, and pressed his hands against her hips. He slid his denim-clad
erection against her. “Are you fertile, right now?”

“Oh,”
she gasped and shook her head. She would start in the next seventy-two hours.
Her breasts were already achy.

She
raised her hand to his face and sucked in a breath when he nuzzled her palm.
“Why?”

“I
won't lie, Shulamith. You could have me begging for your touch within a second.
I would worship you, if you commanded it.” He kissed her palm.

Her
body seized with the blasphemy of it all. “Oh, God,
why?
”

He
pressed his forehead to hers. Why wouldn't she just kiss him already. “Is it so
hard to believe that I desire you?”

She
raised her hand to her hair. She shook her head to deny the possibility.

“You
think I'm just going through the motions?” He gripped her wrist and pulled her
hand toward his heart. “I fell in love with you on our wedding day. I admired
your beauty before, but it was your blatant disregard for beauty that made me
want you. That makes you beautiful to me. The most beautiful thing that owns me
utterly–”

She
opened her mouth against his, just to breathe in his breath. Never would she
let herself believe that love would be her fate. Duty had been drilled into her
head since she was a child, but never this. Never something like this. She
understood the significance of her name. She melted completely against him. She
felt his moan before she heard it. She raised her arms as he lifted the shirt
from her. He touched her with fingers and palms everywhere he could reach. Her
bra had five hooks in the back that he pawed at ineffectually, before he
growled and held her still. She felt the cold, blunt metal of the knife against
her back, but before she could panic, she heard the blade sing and her full
heavy breasts were freed of their confines.

Jared
dropped the knife with a dangerous clang, and cradled her breasts. He'd not
seen them in anywhere but their bed, and they were glorious. He knew at that
moment that he was meant to worship her. He pulled her toward him and his hands
went to her bottom. He was going to lift her, and take her to their marriage
bed, but she'd spread her legs wider and moaned.

He
was going to have her in the kitchen, next to the chopped vegetables. He kissed
her deeply before pressing her backward. Her back arched against the coolness
of the granite and the knife's blade still under her, and his mouth found her
nipple. Her back arched even further.

He
moved his hand up her skirt and began to pull the elastic of her knickers over.
He was suddenly compelled to see, so he stood. And he stared.

Shula's
white lacy panties were soaked through, and he moved his thumb over the wet
cotton, down, then all the way up. Her hips bucked on the upward graze, and he
did it again, addicted at her reaction. He was taught that a woman was only
fulfilled when he was inside her, preparing her for his seed and he felt so
badly for the men that truly believed that.

He
moved her panties over and teased her clitoris. She bucked and moaned, and he
moved his thumb rhythmically over it, torn between watching her face, or
watching the moisture gather around his fingers as he grazed her.

“Please,
Jared. Please,” she moaned.

“Shula,
what do you want?” He asked with a reverent whisper.

“I
don't know. Idon'tknowIdon'tknow! Just–” She broke off with a sob and spread
herself impossible wider.

He
grabbed at his jeans, and effortlessly unbuttoned, unzipped and pushed them
down. He settled into place, and pulled her panties to the side, thrusting in
smoothly. He delighted in her arch and sudden shriek.

She
was all laid out for him, nude from the waist up, breasts moving with each
thrust, and he wanted to
see
more. He paused in his thrusting and
grabbed a paring knife from the wooden block. Shula stared at him with wide
eyes.

He
smiled and looked down. The material was digging into her skin, so he quickly
slashed both sides of the elastic in the thighs. He made a point to put the
knife back into the block before thrusting into her again, then ripping off the
rest of the cotton.

She
was bared completely for him.

She
felt her blush intensify. She was sure he wasn't meant to look at her like that.
She wasn't meant to enjoy it so thoroughly. Was she supposed to deny him? He
was her husband. She had pledged her obedience to him.

There
was so much she didn't know and didn't understand. All she knew was, wrong or
right, at that very moment, she felt free and happy, and she smiled. She smiled
at Jared. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“I'm
meant to be thanking you, I'm sure,” he said, quite out of breath. He looked
down, and thumbed her clitoris until he developed a rhythm, before looking up
again.

She
closed her eyes tightly, confused by the tidal rush of pleasure. It was so
intense that she wanted him to stop immediately, but she found herself asking
for the unknown. “Jared, I need–”

He
sped up, slammed into her harder, and pressed her clitoris.

Shulamith
found God. Or what she thought God should be.

X

He disinfected the
marks on her back. She didn't flinch at all, not that he expected her to. It
disturbed him a little. “You should have said something.”

“I
didn't really feel it.”

He
stilled his hand and looked up at her, indicating that he didn't believe her.

“Jared,”
she sighed. “I like it a little. Just a little pain, when I know it's coming.
Not a lot.”

He
considered. The marks on her back were only just nicks. What concerned him was
that her pain receptors would be off when they were having sex. She could've
bled out over the cutting board and not felt a thing. “Is it the danger?”

Shula
frowned at him. “I don't really know.”

“Have
you ever hurt yourself before?”

She
shook her head. “It's just when we're–” she motioned toward the counter.

He
felt momentarily gutted. Their first time. Their
very
first time, he'd
hurt her and she'd cried. But she had been perfectly fine the next day, if you
didn't count her food anxiety.

She
knew what he was thinking. She wouldn't have him thinking that this was his
fault. She believed they would've figured it out sooner or later. “I didn't
like it when you hurt my fingers, but I liked being held down. I
like
it. I like it when you squeeze my wrists. When your teeth brush against me. And
earlier, when you had me in the kitchen. In broad daylight.”

He
breathed out. And pressed one of the nicks. She hissed and he smiled. “No?”

“No,
Jared.”

He
laughed. “You go sit on the stool, and I'll finish this.”

“I
can–”

“I
know, Shula. But I like to cook for you.”

Shula
sat on a stool, still topless. “Well, you did ruin a perfectly functioning
brassiere.”

He
laughed. “I finished the fence.”

“So,
that's why you were in here early.” It was an odd change of subject– “Oh!”

“Yes,
oh,” he said pleasantly. “We can pick you up some more underthings, and maybe
some pants when we go to the city next weekend. I've booked an inn, in the
heart of downtown San Antonio.” He'd never been to San Antonio, only Austin,
and he wanted to experience something new with her. They could do Austin
another time.

He
liked making her happy.

Jared
couldn't stop thinking of the marks on her back. It was after dinner, and she'd
had her shower and was in her nightdress. She wouldn't be for long. He was
feeling increased bravery by the second.

He'd
taken her from behind quite a few times since they'd been married. It was the
sleepy intimate sort.

This
time, he wanted the lamp.

He
pulled her nightdress off before he'd even kissed her. He wanted to keep her
surprised. He spun her around and kissed her neck, slowly at first, then a nip
of teeth. He moved his hand into her pretty white panties and she was already
slick, and his fingers slid against her clitoris for a few long seconds before
pushing her panties down.

“Crawl
on to the bed, Beautiful,” he whispered to her. She hesitated only a second,
and he was inside her as soon as her ass was in the air.

It
felt so fucking good that he forgot why he wanted her that way in the first
place, but when he looked down, he remembered.

He
fucked her earnestly, trying not to come, and he placed both palms on her back,
covering all the nicks, and causing her to hiss.

He
removed his hands and leaned forward and kissed every mark. Once he was done,
he licked them.

And
once she grew complacent with his tongue, he sucked them until they were bloody
again.

The
sheets were a mess the next morning.

XI

Shula needed Jared
home immediately. He hadn't been gone long and it was the first time she'd been
left alone on their property.

She
had insisted that she wasn't afraid and that she would be fine.

Until
James Agnesson knocked on the door.

She
should have locked the door. Jared wouldn't have been angry, but she panicked.
She remembered how fearful Jared had been their first night together and she
knew better than to dismiss it.

It
was late, so she was in her pajamas, and she hated how vulnerable it made her
feel.

She
let him in and took his coat. She offered him a drink. “Your husband lets you
run around looking like you've got something to sell?”

She
froze at the question. She was frightened, but knew that was silly. She'd
behaved worse in his presence. And this was her home. Fuck him. “He commands
it. Would you like something to drink? Tea, water...strychnine?”

“Oh,
I bet he has a time with you. I'm perfectly fine, thank you.” He sat on the
sofa and looked around.

She
stayed in the kitchen. She busied herself with invisible crumbs. “You'd have to
ask him.”

“Well,
I'm certain you wouldn't be speaking to me this way if Jared was here. Where is
he?”

Shula
knew that he was asking the question to see if she'd lie to him. Because it was
too coincidental that he showed as soon as she was left alone for the first
time. “He went to help Martin with his tire.”

“That
all?” James stood and Shula breathed a sigh of relief.

“As
far as I know. I'll tell him you stopped by.” She walked out of the kitchen and
toward the front door. As soon as she reached for the front door, she was
pushed roughly against it.

“I
think you have grown entirely too comfortable here.” One hand grabbed her hip
and another wrapped around her neck. “I'd really love to savor this, but
there's not time. I doubt Jared would be so accommodating once he's found out
you've had me inside you.”

“Yet,
you're fine with raping another man's wife. Your son's wife. Your
daughter-in-law. The mother of your future grandchildren. Jesus, you're
disgusting.” She should be keeping her mouth shut, but she just couldn't. She
was angry and she hated him. “Can you get on with it? I've got to clean up
dinner and plan a funeral.”

“You
can't plan your own,” he whispered harshly, bunching up her dress.

She
could feel his erection, hear the sound of the zip as he pulled it down. “No,
you're right. Jared will plan the both of ours. Because there is no other
outcome. Once you've gone through with this, Jared will kill you.”

“Jared's
too much of a pussy–”

James
Agnesson didn't expect to feel his father's rifle against the back of his head.
“I would shoot you if we were anywhere else, but this is our home, Shula's and
mine, and while I think your brains splattered against the door here would be
beautiful, really quite artistic, I'd really not like to get it on my lovely
wife.”

Shula
escaped his grip easily. She went and stood behind her husband. She was two
seconds from a breakdown. James turned around to face them. Shula didn't think
he looked scared enough. “Jared. Think this through. They will send you to
prison at worst. At best, the investigation would be constant. I misunderstood
the situation. She is very mouthy and I wanted to teach her that it wasn't the
way a lady spoke.”

“It's
not your place. It's not your business.”

“I
know that. I apologize,” James placated, just a tad condescendingly.

“Get
out. And if you ever step foot on my property again, I'll let my wife shoot
you. She's not a pussy.” Jared motioned to the front door with the rifle.
“Don't forget your coat.”

They
watched him leave, and as soon as he was past the tree line, Shula fell to her
knees.

It
took all of Jared's self-control not to kill the man in his bed.