The Ritual: Chapter 52

I LIE ON my back in our bedroom. It’s got to be past midnight, and it’s pitch black in here. The sound of the ceiling fan going can be heard along with the thunder outside.

Blake is cuddled up to my left side, and I have one arm under my head, propping it up while the other holds my cell. I watch the cameras on my app that surround the house inside and out. It shows the rain running off the gutters and parts of the ground that are already flooding. And every now and then, lighting strikes.

“Ryat,” she whispers. “Aren’t you tired?’

“No,” I say, my eyes zeroing in on a part in the front yard that looks suspicious. Like something or someone is standing at the end of the driveway. Looking over at the other camera that gives me a better view, I sigh when I see it’s the trash can that Gunner put out there for me.

Then it’s jerked out of my hand. “Blake …” I hear it hit the floor.

She pulls back the covers and straddles my hips. “If you’re awake, then pay attention to me.” Running her hands up and down my chest slowly, she drags the tips of her fingernails softly over my skin, making me shiver.

I place my hands on her naked hips and squeeze. We always sleep naked. I prefer her to dress like it’s twenty below outside this house, but inside—nothing.

She bends forward and presses her lips to my neck. Lightning strikes outside the window, lighting up the room through the curtains. “Blake,” I warn, my hands moving up to her sides, feeling her ribs.

“What?” she asks innocently.

“We can’t,” I tell her, hating that she can already feel how hard I am.

“Why?” she whispers, kissing up to the shell of my ear, and my hands move up her back and tangle in her hair.

“Because you just got out of the hospital.” As the words leave my lips, she starts grinding her hips on top of me.

Fuck!

“Are you going soft on me?” Her warm breath falls across my skin when she whispers, and I know I’m about to crack.

“No,” I say and roll over, taking her with me.

She squeals in surprise, and I pin her underneath. “Good.”

Lightning strikes once again, brightening the room and I see the smile on her face. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I say, bending down to press my lips to her neck. As long as I’m the one on top, I can control what we do and how we do it.

“Since when?”

I give a rough laugh. My wife is trying to push me. “It’s not going to work, Blake.”

“I want to be your good girl.”

I groan at the sound of her voice—so eager to please me. “You are,” I tell her.

“Then tell me to fuck your cock,” she says softly.

“Blakely,” I growl her full name, hoping she understands I mean business.

“Ryat,” she counters, her fingers running through my hair and pulling lightly on it. “Fuck me.” She orders desperately, her hips lifting to meet mine.

And I feel what little restraint I had left, break. Reaching between our bodies I grab my cock and slide into her wet pussy. She was already ready for me, like I was her.

Arching her back, she let’s out a sound that can only be victory while I promise myself to go slow and be careful with her. I can make love to my wife.

BLAKELY

IT’S BEEN THREE weeks since my stay at the hospital. Life finally seems to be getting back to normal. Well, as normal as it can be. Nothing has really been the same since I ran away. It’s weird not going to Barrington now.

Ryat refuses to let that happen. He swears the person he’s hired to take over as me has straight A’s. When I asked him how he expects to graduate when he’s skipping all of his classes, his answer was, “I’m a Lord. We don’t have to show up. No matter what, we graduate.”

I guess it made sense. They have to do assignments—remain loyal to their oath—and some keep them away for days, even weeks at a time. Barrington is on the Lords payroll. I always knew the University was crooked. It just took becoming a Lady to find out how much.

Ryat was right—my face has finally healed, and you can’t even tell. I’m still getting headaches often, and Ryat took me to see Gavin earlier this week for more tests to look into it, but he gave me the all clear. Said hopefully over time, they will be less and less.

“I’m almost done,” Sarah announces while I stare up at Ryat’s bathroom ceiling at the house of Lords while she works on my neck.

It’s Halloween, and they’re throwing a big party. The hotel sits on several hundred acres, and they’ve set up a haunted house, hayride for the woods, and a walkthrough mirror maze. It’s actually pretty cool. I had to beg Ryat to come. I swear, I see himself going crazy while he sits at the cabin watching the cameras. Matt hasn’t been seen or heard from since I saw him last in my car at Blackout. It’s as if he’s dropped off the face of the earth.

“Done.” Sarah steps back from me.

Lowering my head to look at her, I turn to face the mirror. “Nice.” I smile at myself.

I’m a sacrifice. It’s as fucked up as I could think. Halloween is meant to be scary. I didn’t want to do the whole look at me, I’m a cute bumblebee. I went the opposite way.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m still dressed like a slut. I want to get my husband so wound up that when we’re finally alone later, he rips this thing off me because he’s tired of others seeing me in it. I love being his good girl, but I also enjoy being punished. I’ve gotten to the point where we need some excitement. He needs me to take his mind off Matt and I know how to do it.

I know how Ryat feels about the Lords—he’s devoted his life to them. I wanted to show him that I can do that too. He’s sacrificed so much to get where he is, and he’ll have to continue to do so. Even after Barrington. So, I’m sacrificing myself to him.

Matt fucked up my initiation, and Ryat told me last week that the Lords aren’t going to have me make it up. A part of me was disappointed. I wanted to show him that I could be what a Lord needs. Another part of me wondered if that was what Matt’s plan really was—to keep me from doing my initiation, hoping the Lords would exile me. Either way, he lost.

“They’re done,” Sarah says, reading a text on her cell.

The Lords had a meeting down in the basement once we got here. It gave us time to get ready. “Okay. Let’s go and meet them out there.” If Ryat finds me dressed and looking like this in his room, we won’t be leaving it tonight.

Grabbing my cell off the counter, I flip off the light and hop from foot to foot while shoving my feet into my heels while walking across his room to the door.

“I texted Gunner that we will meet them in the ballroom,” she informs me as I lock the door behind us.

“Okay.” We make our way through the hotel. They went all out with the decorations. The walls of the hallway are covered in what looks like spiderwebs. Some dip low from the ceiling, and you have to duck. They’ve got smoke machines sitting on the floor to reduce visibility.

“Let’s get a drink first,” she calls out over the music, and I nod in agreement.

Yes, please. Ryat and I haven’t used a condom, and I’m no longer on birth control, but there have been no signs of being pregnant. I was informed in the hospital that it was standard procedure to test me, and it was negative. Plus, I just got off my cycle last week. I’m honestly surprised by that. But I’m not worried. I would at least like to graduate college first, and that’s a year away.

Stepping into the kitchen, she pours us each a mixed drink that looks like a fruit punch of some kind out of a witch’s cauldron. Once done, we head back through the hotel and to the ballroom. They have the DJ here like that first night in the corner at the head of the room.

I see some of the Lords—non-seniors—walking around holding trays, serving drinks and snacks. They’re not dressed in their cloaks and masks tonight. Instead, they are dressed in all black with half of their faces painted like a skeleton.

I did Ryat’s face before we left the cabin earlier. I had to lie and say that I needed Sarah to do mine once we got here. I could have done it myself, but he didn’t know what I was going to be.

Bringing the straw to my lips, I take a drink, hoping that it doesn’t remove my lipstick. When I feel him enter the room, I smile around it to myself.

A hand slaps my ass, making it sting. “Wanting me to fuck that ass to remind you who owns it?” he growls in my ear.

That thought has me sucking harder on my straw. Turning around, I face him.